


In fear and sorrow

by Silverlightning



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:47:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 37,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5389700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverlightning/pseuds/Silverlightning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We always told each other that we couldn’t live without one another and I firmly believe in that. As long as he is out there alone, scared and cold I can’t breathe properly. I still can’t feel him, if I only could feel him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The blue and orange lights color the wall in front of me in a shade of bluish grey, a pulsating movement that seems to give life to the cracks and irregularities in the old off white wallpaper that has seen clearly better days. But so had I that’s why I kept my eyes focused on one special spot on the wallpaper, avoiding to look out of the window or let my eyes wander through the room. Even if I would I doubt the scenery had changed much since I last looked outside an hour or so ago. I don’t have my wristwatch on me and my ability to estimate time had ceased to exist at exactly 6am this morning when a harsh knocking sound dragged me out of a pleasant dream where I was laying on the beach sipping a cocktail and checking out the ladies. So that’s why it could be easily two hours ago I made the effort to look at something else than the wall in front of me.  
  
The street outside the hotel we were currently staying at had been lined with police cars, some with their lights on and police officers nearby and some abandoned on parking spaces further away. Dawn had already begun to settle over the city and the normally quiet area outside of the hotel was buzzing with activity.   
  
Policemen tried to keep the lurking press at bay by creating a controlled area with yellow tape, exactly that kind of tape you see them using in tv thrillers on bloody crime scenes. In theory that tape should keep the paparazzi behind the barrier but I doubt it has some effect at all. There were probably already pictures flooding the internet: pictures of the hotel, me and the other band mates. To be perfectly honest I do not even care about that anymore, if people want to see my red face and poofy eyes from crying for hours they can.  
  
Since the scenery outside reminds me far too much of a crime scene I keep my eyes on the wall. I could look around the room but I just don’t dare doing that. I am afraid of meeting the teary eyes of Georg and Gustav, in those eyes I can see the same questions that are haunting my mind and a part of the fear, devastation and pure horror I am experiencing at the moment. However it can only be a fraction of the pain I am feeling, after all they didn’t lose a part of their soul, the reason to live and breathe.   
  
This hotel room is way too crowded, with the police running in and out in addition to our entire security staff. Our security staff consists of about 10 people but they are never on duty all at once. To see these long and muscular guys with their earpieces spread out in the same room makes my stomach reel. It’s a sign that the situation we are currently in is of outmost severity.   
  
Besides that I can feel their worried glances rest on me every couple of minutes and I can’t meet their worry or their pity and empathy. I don’t even know which one is worst. So I am sitting here on a hard beige sofa not moving in the hopes that if I do this long enough I just might turn into a pillar of salt. Maybe the saltiness of all the unshed tears will finally leave its traces even on the outside. I cried for hours and still it feels like I could drown in the tears unshed. To be honest I didn’t just cry but I also screamed, and destroyed everything in my view, had a fistfight with some of the securities who tried to calm me down to keep me from hurting myself. My knuckles have turned blue by now, covered in small scratches and wounds. I remember at one point I punched a brick wall, but the memories are fuzzy like a fog has settled over them.   
  
In a way I am thankful for that because I can’t relive the moment when one of the security guards who was on night duty told me my brother hadn’t come home from the fashion party he attended last night. He had so much looked forward to this event, the personal invitation he had received from one of his favorite designers made him feel special and important.   
  
For days he hadn’t talked about anything else: what he would wear and the interesting people he was going to meet. I was happy for him but not very eager to follow his offer to attend the event as his plus one. Such fashion parties have never been my cup of tea, it is a world existing by its own rules and I wasn’t very interested in the people there or the fashion line that was going to be displayed.   
  
That’s why I stayed home, wrapped in one of the hotels soft bathrobes, playing some games on the xbox and just relaxing. There was no party going on I wanted to attend and the G’s had voted for a quiet evening in. We had dinner together but went off doing our own things after that. We have been touring for a couple of weeks and spend all day every day together so everyone cherished the opportunity to get some space. We are like family and care about each other but the constant stress and closeness drives us crazy sometimes.   
  
Sometimes you just need to be alone and have some personal space; alone or as in my case alone with Bill. I am never truly alone and spend almost every waking hour with my twin brother. But that’s different; I don’t need space from him as little as I need space from myself.  
  
The noise in the background is changing slightly. The chatter coming from the policeman’s walkie talkie increases in volume and I can feel that people start to move around the room hastily. The door is opened and closed with a loud thud. Muffled voices from the corridor reach my ear, to indistinct to hear what they say. Gustav is whispering to Georg, who is sitting on the other sofa in the room. If I would made an effort I probably could hear what he is saying but it doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters because my brother went missing last night; it has been hours since someone saw him the last time. He was attending an expensive fashion party, heavily guarded by security because of the high value clothes and jewelry and still he got kidnapped, or injured. Probably both.  
  
Before I had a breakdown and broke that new security guy’s nose I just believed he met someone and went off for a night of fun. As the day dawned it became apparent that my theory was nothing but the hope filled ranting of a desperate man. Deep down I knew something was wrong when I woke up by the knocking on my hotel room. Not because it was an ungodly hour to wake someone on their day off unless you have bad news but because I can’t feel him.  
  
My eyes feel like I had rubbed them with sandpaper and my back hurts. Probably from the sofa or from lying bent over Georg’s lap sobbing for the most part of the morning. He never said anything but held me tightly, petting my back. He never said that everything would be all right and I appreciate that. Bill isn’t here and things won’t be alright until he is.  
  
“Tom”, a hand on my shoulders forces me to abandon that comforting spot on the wall with mye eyes. The man in the dark suit in front of me is part of my security entourage but I can for the life of me not figure out his name. Something with D, Daniel maybe? Lets face it I have always been bad at those things. It’s always Bill who remembers every single member of the staff, congratulates them on their birthdays and ask them how they are doing. But whatever his name is it’s at least not the new one whose nose collided with my fist in a very unfortunate manner.  
  
  
I try to force a smile onto my features but I can feel that it’s nothing but a grimace. The pity in the guy’s blue eyes tells me that has no news about Bills whereabouts. In the first hours after Bills disappearance every time someone from the police force called my name hope was raised that they had found him, that he was back. With every minute that passes without news my hopes drown in a sea of sorrow, even I know that the first day after a person’s disappearance is crucial and that the possibility that they will find him alive gets smaller and smaller by the hour.  
  
The shift in light from the window caught my eyes, it’s almost dark now. I wonder where he is, if he is cold and scared. Bill never liked darkness very much and when we were children he always kept a little sleep light on, too afraid to be alone in his dark room. On occasion he came into my room begging me to let him stay with me- he had always been a boy with a lot of fantasy and creativity and believed several months that a monster called Artie lived under his bed when he was about seven years old. He also firmly believed that the only person the monster was afraid of was me, which was the reason I never could find a monster when I checked under his bed.  
  
The tears well up in my eyes again as I remember him saying one night as he hugged me tightly with his small arms: “Tomi, you are my super hero that’s why the monsters go away when you come to save me”.  
  
Obviously I have totally failed my mission as my baby brothers superhero and couldn’t protect him when he needed it the most, when a very real monster was about to hurt him. The security guy looks uncomfortable and coughs to get my attention back. I guess I stared out of the window and into the darkness for quite some time.  
  
“Did Bill have a jacket with him?” I ask my question not directed to anyone special and several heads turn, Georg and Gustav stop the whispering and turn to look at me.   
  
All of a sudden I am so afraid that he is cold out there. He always wears just the thinnest leather jackets, because he thinks a real parka would make him look like an idiot. Now he is out there and it’s freezing.  
  
“You have to take my jacket with you if you find him he is going to be cold, please promise you take the jacket”, I jump onto my feet and grab my winter parka hanging by the door and try to give it to one of the police man standing nearby doing nothing but once in a while talking into a chattering walkie talkie.   
  
He looks a little bit confused and one of his thick eyebrows is questioningly raised. He is in his early fifties and I find it comforting that there are not just young people around that couldn’t possibly have all the experience needed to find my brother.  
  
“Tom,” I hear Georg say firmly and feel a familiar hand on my shoulder. I don’t know why he looks so concerned I am just trying to look out for my little brother.  
  
“Of course, we make sure Bill is warm and comfortable as soon as we find him”, the police man nods and smiles reassuringly. He steps back and hands over the parka to another man by the door who looks almost younger than me. I can hear him whisper some words and nod in my direction but I can’t hear what he is saying.  
  
“Tom, maybe you should eat something and have some water. Its hours ago you last left the sofa, come on”, Georgs hand is still on my shoulder and he squeezes gently to lead me to the table in the middle of the room covered in sandwiches and energy drinks.  
  
It’s such an ugly room, nothing like the beautiful and spacious suites the band is staying in. I talked to several police officers about when I had last seen Bill and spoken to him. They asked if he had enemies and if there were threats against the members of the band. Of course there were lots and lots of threats, people claiming we were Satan’s offspring and who wanted to kill us. Lunatics that we obviously didn’t take seriously enough because one of these persons might held my brother captured at this very moment.  
  
After I had told them everything I wasn’t allowed back into my own suite because security was afraid that it wasn’t save enough. Now we were in one of the extra rooms the hotel keeps for their staff in case they had to work nights and needed a place to stay.  
  
  
Georg has approached the table and opens one can of coke and takes a sandwich out of its wrapping to put it on napkin. He gestures to an empty chair and my legs comply his wishes. Not because I am hungry or thirsty but I am too tired to stand upright. The truth is that I have trouble breathing; I can imagine how it must feel to have asthma. To breathe in harder and harder but no air reaches your lungs.  
  
We always told each other that we couldn’t live without one another and I firmly believe in that. But I am surprised of the very physical difficulties I am having. As long as he is out there alone, scared and cold I can’t breathe properly. I still can’t feel him, if I only could feel him.


	2. Chapter 2

I must have fallen asleep. I am startled by indistinct voices shouting something out on the street, I can hear tires scratching and a door is harshly opened. When I open my eyes the quality of the light inside the room has changed again. The darkness is gone and instead there is a greyish light coming from the only window in the room. It could be the hours of early morning; the light seems otherworldly like twilight combined with fog. 

I don’t move a muscle but try to see what’s going on inside the hotel room. Georg is standing by the window, holding a steaming cup which I am guessing contains coffee. Gustav is slumped over on the sofa, soundly asleep. Once in a while a small snoring sound escapes his slightly parted lips.

We always tease him for his snoring but he always acts like we are just making things up and that he doesn’t snore at all. But of course he does and endless hours we spend on tour busses together have proven that. We all have different sleeping habits we know the habits of the others as well as our own. Georg always talks to his girlfriend before he falls asleep. It’s the last thing he does while lying in bed. Bill always makes himself his special tea before he goes to bed: hot water, fresh ginger, lemon and honey. Apparently it keeps his voice healthy but it really tastes like old socks. 

Georg and Gustav are not as much night owls as we are that’s why we are often the last ones around when all the others are already asleep. We usually sit on the sofa, Bill curled up by my side sipping his tea. Sometimes we talk about the day’s events and sometimes we just sit quietly enjoying each other’s company. It is in those moments I am completely relaxed and able to let go of the stress and the pressure of touring. I often think as long as he is by my side everything else doesn’t matter anyway.

I am surprised about the fact that there are just two officers and three members of our security entourage in the room. Not that I miss the crowded feeling. Maybe they just asserted that there is no danger for the rest of us. I said hours ago that we are not the ones in danger and that they should focus all personnel on finding my brother. 

I don’t know what time it is but I am pretty sure it has been more than 24 hours since someone kidnapped him. Late last night when they finally were done talking to all the party guests and searching the big party area they found Bills plaid scarf that he had around his waist that day. I don’t think he would have left the scarf behind it’s one of his favorites. That and suspicious security footage from the cameras eliminated every doubt that this was something else than a crime.

There is noise outside the window again and Georg is curiously leaning forward. I can hear thuds, like several people in boots running down the street. More cars are apparently arriving and car doors got slammed repeatedly. I briefly wonder what they are doing out there but the actions of the police this whole day have made no sense to me. I just hope they know what they are doing and that they find my brother soon.

I keep on hoping that he will turn up at this very door, alive and unharmed even though I know the chances for that are very slim. I try not to focus on that mute feeling inside of me where I usually feel Bill. That more than anything scares me that I am not going to see my brother again. I really wanted to talk to someone but I gave up as I tried to explain the feeling I am having for Georg and I saw nothing but confusion in his eyes. When he doesn’t understand who knows us inside out its useless to try it with someone else. I didn’t even know how to describe it to them other than I usually feel Bill.

In a place deep inside my heart I feel his presence. When he enters the room I immediately know without looking or hearing that it’s him. If he has a bad dream I can feel the anxiety running like tar through my veins as well as I can feel his bubbly excitement when he is happy. But I have never encountered that I felt absolutely nothing like I do now.

Now Gustav has woken up from the increasing noise level and he joins Georg at the window. A jitter jatter comes from a walkie talkie and the last two policemen hastily leave the room together. Gustav is pointing at something outside and they start to whisper again amongst each other. I could let them know that I am awake but I like this state of being awake but not bothered by anyone. If they know I am awake they probably force me to respond to one of my mother’s calls or eat something. After Gustav delivered the news to her she has repeatedly called and demanded to speak to me but I just couldn’t. How I am supposed to face her knowing that I didn’t look out for my brother well enough? If I hear her voice I might just start crying again and I am afraid that this time I am not going to stop ever again.

All of a sudden a noise so deafening loud reaches us that I can do nothing but cover my ears. Georg and Gustav step back from the window screaming my name.

“What the hell is this?” I Scream but my voice drowns and I can see the G’s lift their hands in a helpless gesture. They didn’t hear what I asked but that doesn’t matter because right there and then I recognize that sound. It’s a helicopter roaring right above us probably landing on the hotel roof. In the matter of seconds I scramble on to my feet and run to the window. A helicopter must mean that there is news about Bill.

As I lean against the cold glass of the window I don’t see anything else but nearby trees bending over from the wind created by the rotor blades and police running around screaming and holding on to their hats. It takes almost two minutes until the noise stops and leaves an almost thick silence behind. My ears react with an intense beeping and I can see Gustav rubbing one ear as well.

“What the hell is going on?” we almost simultaneously ask what’s left of our security entourage.

They clearly don’t know more than we do and I decide it’s time to find out what is going on. I almost run to the door and I can hear Gustav calling out “shoes” but by then I am already through the door on my way to the elevators. I look down to see that I really have nothing on my feet but white socks. I just continue going because shoes or not I have to find out what is going on and I am not letting anyone stop me. But the hallway outside of our room is deserted and I reach the elevator with no one bothering me.

In the last seconds before the metal elevator door closes I can see the G’s running towards me calling out my name again. Apparently they took the time to put some shoes on. The elevator doors slide shut before they reach me and I repeatedly y press the button for the 12th floor from which you can access the roof. Good thing that I for once listened as Shiro told me facts of the hotel when we arrived.

The elevator doors open with a bling and I look in a hallway that couldn’t be more opposite to the deserted one I just came from. The hallway is crowded with police and security. Everyone is talking loudly and people are running around. No one pays any attention to me and I am losing my patience with these people that give me no information despite the fact that it’s my brother who is missing.

“Would someone for fucks sake tell me what the fuck is going on?” I scream to be heard over the noise and my efforts pay off.

Heads turn and everyone falls silent looking at me with big eyes. These people are really unbelievable. The officer who took my jacket approaches me; extending a hand like he wants to great me but instead he puts it on my shoulder.

“Tom, we have found Bill, he just arrived with that helicopter. I am sorry we kept you out of the loop but we wanted to make sure he is back safe and sound before we tell you.”

“He is back? He is back?!” I am yelling again and behind me the signature bling of the elevator doors is heard. It must be Georg and Gustav arriving. As it seems they heard my last words and they at once shelter me on each side, hands giving support on my shoulders and back.

“Yes he is, we are now getting him down from the roof to the hospital down the street because we have to make sure all evidence left on his body is obtained.”

Evidence? On his body? What is this man talking about? He sounds like someone from a bad crime show on tv.

“What?” I reply quietly, all of a sudden too weak to speak loud. All I want is to see my brother.

The officer opens his mouth in an attempt to reply but he gets interrupted by a man in black uniform yelling “clean the corridor, clean the corridor!”. In the matter of seconds people disappear into the nearby stairwell but I do not move an inch even though the friendly officer is harshly dragging my arm. Now my workouts pay off and the chubby man can’t make me move a muscle.

The door leading down from the roof is opened and the first thing I see are several man dressed in black and grey armer suits that look like the special ops team you sometimes can see on television. Their faces are covered and they all look kind of dangerous, holding heavy weapons. As five of them pass my breath hitches and for one moment the world stops turning and my heart stops beating. As my eyes lock with a similar pair of brown ones a wave of relief washes through me so strong that I almost can’t stand on my feet because my legs are about to cave in.

The first wave of relief is followed by a wave of pure horror just a millisecond after I experienced it. Besides the eyes and the overall stature it is almost impossible to see that the person shielded by the guards is my twin brother. His blond hair is dirty and flat on his head; blood and dirt cover his face. On his cheekbones, right under his eyes is a bluish blamish covers the area.

Only now I begin to recognize that he isn’t looking at me even though my eyes are locked with his. He seems distant, like he is here but yet he isn’t. My eyes wander down his slim figure and I can see similar scratches and wounds cover his read and swollen knuckles. In the irony of the universe his hands look exactly like mine if you forget the tattoos covering them. His black shirt is ripped apart and barely covers his upper body. Through the rips in the fabric I can see his white skin, interrupted by red marks and what appear to be scratches.

I am horrified at how deranged and distant he looks. The only thing giving me a little bit of comfort is the fact that someone remembered to give him my jacket to cover his almost naked upper body and all of a sudden I feel deeply thankful towards the elderly officer who now has stopped dragging my arm.

I look at my baby brother and oddly enough I still can’t feel him. It’s the most horrific experience I have ever had and it chills my bones. Only seconds could have passed since the door opened even though it feels like an eternity.

“Bill!” I can’t hold myself back and with two steps I am standing in front of him only held back by a angry looking guard.

“Its ok, he is his brother. Let him through!” I can hear the officer explaining and feel how the guard is reluctantly moving a step back to give me some space.

Bills eyes are still unfocused and I am not even sure he has seen me yet. I cautiously take his wounded hands in mine and place a tender kiss on the swollen and blue knuckles. I don’t care that his hands are covered in dirt and blood, the only thing I want is take the pain he experiences away from him. The moment my lips meet his skin I can hear him take a deep breath my insides ignite like a firework at New Year’s Eve. The mute and numb feeling disappears and instead I can feel him again, all of his anxiety, fear, horror and devastation. But I can also feel relief.

“Tom” he whispers in a hoarse voice. To get his beautiful silky voice in such a state he must have screamed and cried for hours. I have the feeling it was my name he screamed in his despair and my knees almost buckle and I have difficulties fighting the sobs and the tears that are trapped inside my body.

When I think I can’t take it anymore I feel the G’s on my side, strong arms lifting me up and pressing me against my brother. I put my arms around him, holding him tight shielded by Georg and Gustav who enable us to have this hug because we are both too weak to stand upright by ourselves.  
I silently promise that I will never leave his side ever again, I say it as a mantra over and over again. I can feel his hands gripping the fabric of my shirt tightly, his breaths short and asthmatic. I can feel him nod in response to my mantra, I am not sure if I said it out loud or if he just understood anyways like he always does.

In this very moment I wish I would be the one of us who can do magic with words, who can move hearts with a single sentence and an angelic voice. For me words never fit as they should, I have trouble translating all my feelings into words so that others can actually understand what I am meaning. Right now I wish I could tell him how much I love him and that he is the only thing that matters to me in this entire world. If I can’t be his side I don’t want to life at all.

The fabric of my shirt feels damp as well as my cheeks and hands. Only then I realize that we both have been crying.

The G’s are talking to the guards and someone has started to drag my arm again. I wish they would just let us be and let me take care of my little brother. I ty to ignore them but the voices get louder and I am forcefully pulled aside by the angry looking guard who didn’t want me to go near Bill in the first place. They are talking about evidence and how I am not allowed to touch Bill unless he has been examined.

“No, no you can’t take him away, no please, wait!” I yell as they start moving, guarding Bill at each side. Don’t they see that he is scared, that he needs me right now?

#Tomi!” he whispers and his voice breaks my heart because it doesn’t sound like the voice of the independent and confident adult he is but like the scared 7 year old he once was. He extends his hand and our fingertips touch briefly before he gets pulled through the door to the stairwell.

“Tom, everything is going to be alright. They are taking him to the hospital we are allowed to follow them in our own car. Come on, I know you want to be with him but this is standard procedure and they can’t bend the rules because the chain of evidence against whoever did this has to be unbroken even if it seems harsh”, I look into the warm eyes of my friend Gustav who calmly explains to me what is going on. Apparently the officer explained all this when Bill came through the door but I zoomed out as soon as I saw him.

“He needs me!” I state the obvious and get going.


	3. Chapter 3

My eyes are glued to the police car in front of me in which Bill currently is sitting in on his way to the hospital. Its pure torture knowing that he is just a few meters away from me and I can do nothing to be there for him, take away the pain and the fear he is feeling right now. Even though the logical part of my brain understands the reason behind the actions of the police I mostly just want to punch someone in the face really hard: preferably someone in a police uniform.

The hospital is located just a few streets down from the hotel but traffic is heavy. It would have been faster to walk to the hospital than taking the car. Right now the cars have come to a stand still again and if I focus my eyes on the rear window of the police car. I can see the back of Bills head. His head is bowed down and I wonder if he is crying. I think I can see his shoulders shake in sobs but it can also be a trick of the flashing lights on the police car.

I try to send as much love and reassurance to him as I can muster and I hope that he somehow is able to feel it through the pain and devastation. Finally we arrive at the hospital where I already can spot several other police cars and for a moment I am surprised that I don’t see hundreds of paparazzi. But I guess not being very famous here in the states has its advantages. I’d rather not think about the media circus this would have created when this had happened on the first part of our KOS tour in Europe. I am not naïve though and highly aware that this just is the calm before the storm.

The police car in front of stops and the nice officer steps out of the car as well as two of the guards Bill has arrived with. The guards cautiously check the area around the car before they open the back door to help Bill out. I can see him immediately look around. He could be looking for paparazzi or he could be looking for me.

I open the car door even though Georg hasn’t brought the car to a complete stand still yet. But I can’t wait and am afraid that I loose Bill in the endless hallways of this big private hospital. I have to make sure that I am with him at all times, from now on until the end of time.  
I can tell that he sees me right away because the ghost of a smile dances on his lips before it’s gone as fast as it appeared. I really hope that whoever did this hasn’t stolen his wonderful big smile and that in time he will be able to feel joy and happiness again. Even if I have to dedicate my life to bringing his smile back I will do that.

I reach him before the guards even can blink and take his hand in mine. One of the guards looks at me with such outrage I am sure he finds me annoying. He didn’t know that it takes more than a couple of guards and some rules to keep me away from my brother. Now that I have my arm around his waist they have to break it to pull me away from him. I meet the steel grey eyes of the guard firmly and I hope that he sees that I am prepared to do whatever it takes to stay by Bills side.

The guard holds my gaze for a couple of seconds before nodding briefly and gesturing us to follow him inside the hospital. We are greeted by a flock of doctors and nurses, some of them carrying clipboards and writing down hastily all the information the police is giving them. My mind is too foggy from the lack of sleep, food and all the emotions I went through to pay close attention to what is said.

I solely focus on keeping Bill steady by my side; by now I am more dragging him along then he is walking by himself. Finally a young nurse is helping Bill into a wheelchair. I immediately grab the handles of the wheelchair, I do not trust anyone else with his safety even though logically I know that these people are professionals and they are here to help him.

But nobody objects and I follow the doctors down a hallway with cream colored walls inside a room at the far end. I take a sigh of relief because instead of the sterile examination room one knows from hospitals this looks more like a living room, with mint colored walls lined with big paintings. In one corner of the room there is a cream colored leather sofa and some green plants are scattered throughout the room. The only thing reminding us that this is still a hospital is an examination table, but the cold metal is covered in white soft looking fabric.

The temperature in the room is warm, borderline hot. While I examined the room, most of our entourage has disappeared. Now I can only see a female doctor in her forties with red hair and black round glasses that make her look friendly. The other one is a male doctor that now introduces himself as Dr. Anderson the hospitals psychologist.

They calmly explain to us that they need to obtain all the evidence that is still on Bills body in order to find and convict the person who has done this to Bill. I still feel totally helpless because nobody has told me anything yet and now it’s really not the time to ask either. As they go through what they are about to do I can see Bills body tense and even if we hadn’t that special connection I could tell that he is afraid by the look in his eyes and the way his hand grabbed the fabric of my shirt again.

“I want to shower, please” he whispers and looks down at his bloody and dirty hands.

The doctors nod understandingly and explains to us that as soon as they are done that he can use the bathroom connected to this room. The doctor asks Bill to sit on the examination table and I have to support him these short steps because he is clearly too weak to hold himself upright.

“Do you want your brother to be present during the examination or do you want him to wait for you outside?” the doctor asks while putting on some rubber gloves and smiles reassuringly.  
Bill hesitates and confusion appears in the depths of his eyes. I catch his gaze and nod to tell him that whatever he chooses that I am going to be here for him. He takes a deep breath and for a millisecond that ghostly smile appears again.

“I want him to be here with me,” he says, now looking sure with no traces of hesitation present on his features.

The psychologist escorts me to the nearby sofa. They pull out a moveable wall that shields the examination table from my eyes. The doctor explains that they think it’s important for Bill to have his privacy during the examination and at the same time be able to see me and talk to me at all times.

Even if it’s selfish I am kind of thankful for that. Just thinking about the blemishes and wounds I saw through the ripped shirt makes my stomach lurch.

“Tom, Bill I am afraid that this examination will not be very pleasant and I am so sorry that you have to go through this. Maybe you could talk about a nice memory to distract yourself from what is happening?” the psychologist suggest.

The fear immediately returns to Bills eyes and it is a horrible thought that I am probably going to see this expression on his face more often from now on.

“Bill don’t you think we have experienced such funny moments on this tour?” I think hard and quick to come up with things to distract him while I hear scissors cutting through fabric and plastic bags rustling.

“I think you all would vote for funniest moment when I almost fell from the stage right?” I know that Bill just loves that this has happened because it’s usually he who can’t control his limbs and falls down on stage.

“Yeah that was funny. I liked the funny gifts from the fans like wasn’t that TORG cup just adorable?”

I can’t help but smile because Bill loves to tease us about the whole TORG thingy. I know however that deep down he is ambivalent to this. He never said anything but I can see it in his eyes when there is too much talk about TORG, and the wonderful friendship Georg and I have. I think he sometimes gets angsty that someone else could replace him as number one priority in my life which is of course really stupid.

That’s why I came up with the TOLL thing at the London Meet and Greet. It was a spontaneous idea but it was one of the best I had in a long time because I could tell by his glistening eyes and wide smile that he loved it.

My thoughts distracted me for a moment from the things going on at the examination table but I refocus as I hear Bill whimper in pain. In the matter of seconds I am on my feet and approach them disregarding the disapproving noises coming from the psychologist.

“Bill, take a deep breath I know this is uncomfortable but we are done in a minute.” The doctor explains and peers over her shoulder to give me a stern –don’t come closer- look.

“Bill you are so brave. Soon this is over and I promise you I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.” My statement is more emotional than I wanted it to be in front of these strangers but I have a hard time controlling my emotions.

“Tomi, my superhero,” he whispers softly with his head bowed down to endure whatever pain they have in store for him. It breaks my heart to see him like this.

It’s finally over and the doctor throws her rubber gloves into the recycling bin and pushes her glasses up her pointy nose.

“All your clothes will be taken away as evidence. Now you can take your time and shower. There is everything you might need in the bathroom. After you are finished the police wants to talk to you.” She takes all the bags marked evidence.

 

“Bill I see you have trouble standing right now. Do you want me to call for a nurse who can assist you in the shower? We don’t want you to get hurt.”

Bill shakes his head furiously and even puts his hands up in a disapproving gesture.

“No please, I don’t want anyone see me…naked…like this”, his voice breaks again and a tear slides down his cheeks and leaves a white trail in all the blood and dirt.

The doctors look at each other helplessly. I can clearly see that they are very empathic and they don’t want to put Bill through any more uncomfortable situations but they are clearly reluctant to let him shower alone.

“Do you want me to stay and help you?” I ask and it’s the most natural thing to do for me. This is the person I shared a womb with, the one person who knows all my secrets and more important the person I love more than anything or anyone in this entire world.  
Bill nods and it seems that he doesn’t like the idea very much either but I guess it’s the best of all the bad opportunities. 

I check the bathroom and exactly like the doctor said there are supplies to cover everything that Bill might need. Lotions, soap and shampoo are put on a low table beside the spacious shower. A bathrobe and fresh towels are ready and hand warm. I am surprised by this bathroom because it looks more like a hotel than a hospital. I briefly wonder if that is because this is a private hospital or if this room is reserved for people like Bill who have experienced something traumatic.

Bill has already dressed in one of these hospital gowns with the open back and I can just tell how uncomfortable he is. I put my hands around his beautiful face and make him lift his gaze from the floor.

“My sweet angel, please don’t feel uncomfortable or embarrassed. Don’t you remember we shared a womb for nine months? We are one and if someone should be here washing all this pain from your body it should be me. “

I keep his gaze locked with mine until I see that my words reach him and he nods. I help him up and we go together into the cream white and pink decorated bathroom. Before I left I turned the shower on so that it would be warm and nice by the time Bill enters it. He paused before the shower and I cautiously untie the knot on the back of his hospital gown and let it slide to the floor.

He immediately steps into the shower and sits down on the special shower chair that you often find in hospital showers, so that injured or old people can sit while they take a shower.

“Hair first?” I ask his back and he hums his approval. I take a generous amount of the shampoo that smells like lily’s and massage it into the short blond strands of his hear. I make sure that I am thorough and rinse and reapply shampoo several times before I move on to his body.

Bill is shivering despite the hot water that already soaked my shirt and jeans.

“Tomi, please make sure that I am clean, that everything of this dirt , of him is off my body.”

I can’t let my thoughts linger on what it actually is that covers Bills body neither focus on all his wounds, scratches and blue marks. I just keep going cleaning every inch of skin to free him from all of this. I wash his back and torso and pause one moment before I lift his arms to spread soap in his arm pits. As I wash my brothers most hidden body parts I am fully aware that this might be the single most intimate moment I ever experienced. Not in a sexual way but because this is pure love and trust. I kneel before him to wash his thighs and legs, my hands glide down his slim calves and I continue with his feet. As I peer up at him from my position on the floor I realize that he looks like a fallen and beaten but still beautiful angel.

I hand the soap to him so that he can wash his intimate parts while I fetch the towels and the bathrobe. He has turned the shower off by the time I am back and looks very much like a drowned cat, shivering and scared. I put the warm and soft bathrobe around him and start drying off his hair with one of the towels. As I pick him up to help him out of the shower and into the wheelchair he puts his arms around me rests his forehead against mine.

“I love you, Tomi” he says almost inaudible and my heart breaks into a thousand pieces by the thought that I almost lost him.


	4. Chapter 4

Not much time passes until we are picked up by Dr. Anderson who explains to us that the doctors decided to keep in Bill for observation for a couple of days due to the heavy trauma he experienced and the overall weakness of his body. Apparently he is severely dehydrated and has to drink lots of fluids. They also want his other wounds to start healing before he can go home.

We go down another long hallway, make a turn left and then right. This place is really huge and busy with doctors running around, nurses delivering some kind of food to the rooms and almost every minute calls can be heard over the speakers for different doctors. I have never been here before but the hospital looks nice, as nice as hospitals can be I guess.

The walls of the hallways have different colors; plants are scattered throughout the whole place and the walls are decorated what seems to be paintings made by children. Bill has never liked hospitals and I hope that the friendly atmosphere will help him survive the following days here.

Finally we arrive at the room that from now on will be Bills room. I push the wheelchair over the threshold and smile a little at the decoration of this room. I guess the interior designer read somewhere that the color blue supposedly has a calming effect on people. The whole room came in different shades of blue, from the walls to the cushions and even the linen on the bed. It looks really ridiculous and I can’t help but snort which earns me a low giggle from my little brother.

Dr. Andersons looks at us with curious eyes but he doesn’t ask any question. He probably wonders what exactly caused this outburst of ours. That reminds me that most people find it strange how in tune we are, that we finish each other’s sentences and we always know what the other thinks. Our bandmates and staff have a long time ago gotten used to it so I keep forgetting that not everybody has a connection to someone like me and Bill have. Isn’t that sad really?

On the bed in front of us sits a sport bag that I recognize as Bills. I curiously approach it but before I can ask where it came from Dr. Anderson explains it to us.

“Your friends Georg and Gustav went home to fetch you some things you might need the next days. They say hello and will be back later today when you have talked to the police. Unfortunately you have to talk to them before you can rest, this is really important you know that Bill, right?”

The psychologist leans forward, coming to eye level with Bill and I can see Bill tense up and draw back. Why does this man crowd him like that? I step forward bringing my body between him and Bill. Bill grabs the waistband of my still soaked jeans from behind. I smile friendly at the man in front of me but I also make sure to keep a stern eye contact.

“I think Bill knows that, there is no need to invade his personal space like that. Please refer from doing that again.” I state calmly however in my mind I add that if not he will certainly not like the consequences.

Dr. Anderson stands upright again; looking a bit puzzled and pulls on strands of his mustache.

“It’s my job to make sure that Bill understands how important that conversation with the police is. And how important it is that after he had it that we start the healing process together by talking about what happened.” 

This time it is Bill who snorts behind me and I couldn’t agree more with him. Does this person think Bill is going to talk to him about what happened, open up and heal?

“Doctor, everyone here has been really nice and I appreciate that. But after my conversation with the police I do not intent to talk about this with anyone of you. I just won’t.”

Bills voice is soft but underneath you can hear the steel that tells everyone that this man is not going to be run over by anyone or anything. Years and years way too many people thought he was a push over but all of them learned that if Bill wants something Bill gets it.

“Bill, I understand if you want to choose another psychologist but I really recommend that you see someone who can help you getting through this difficult time.”

Dr. Anderson looks concerned and he is about to lean forward again but stops himself from doing so.

“Oh I am, doctor don’t worry. I have Tom, that’s all I need”, Bill smiles again, this time he loosens the grip on my jeans and leans back in his wheelchair.

The doctor opens and closes his mouth several times, like he is going to say something but decides in the last moment that it’s not worth it. I can see that he doesn’t like this at all and under normal circumstances I would agree with him. But these aren’t normal circumstances and we don’t have a normal sibling connection.

“Doc, I assure you that I can take the best care of Bill but I promise if we can’t get through by ourselves we will contact you.” 

Bill looks surprised at my words but doesn’t object to them either. Part of me said that because I wanted to let the doctor know that we handle things responsibly but a small part of me likes the idea of a safety line. After all I still don’t know what happened to Bill and how traumatized he really is. He tries to appear calm but I can tell how terrified he is by the way he never lets me out of his sight and needs body contact to me almost all the time.

Our conversation is interrupted by the friendly police officer who has helped me out several times today and I am happy to see him again. This time he introduces himself as Officer Brown and we shake hands. Behind him a young female officer enters the room, carrying a notepad and what seems to be a small recorder.

While they explain to us that they will record Bills statement while he is talking as well as make notes I help Bill out of the wheelchair and into the bed. He still wears nothing but a bathrobe so I make sure he is tucked in and warm. Besides the bed is a comfortable looking chair in which I sit down when it becomes apparent that Bill won’t let go of my hand any time soon.

“Bill, before we start. Do you want to do this alone, or do you have someone present as your support, your brother or psychologist?”

“Just Tom!,” he says courtly and I know he is getting annoyed by the same questions over and over again. 

Officer Brown nods friendly and gestures Dr. Anderson to leave the room. As the door closes behind him with a thud the officer focuses his attention back on Bill who fidgets uncomfortably under the eyes of the police man.

“So Bill, tell us what happened. Just start in the beginning, when you came to the party” officer Brown says and the female officer starts writing on her notepad. She doesn’t sit near the bed like me and officer Brown but in another chair in the corner of the room.

I am glad the officer asked that question because I really want to know what happened. Nobody has told me anything, I don’t even know if Bill got rescued or escaped.

“The party was…nice. Lots of people and it felt like everyone knew each other but to me mostly I recognized them from the tabloids. I felt a bit lost.” Bill sighs and I feel a stab of guilt because if I only just had followed him to that party none of this would have ever happened in the first place.

“I was mingling, talking to someone here and there. Then someone from the waiters told me that they have a beautiful garden and I went to see it despite the fact that it was dark, but I was bored so I went.”

Sweat gathers on Bills forehead and I can see him struggle with the memories. He looks so lost and broken in this big bed, his skin unnaturally white besides the blue marks and wounds covering his cheeks and his burst lip. We all stay quiet and give him the time he needs to continue.

“The garden was huge….and dark. I just wandered around and all of a sudden there was a man grabbing my arm and yanking me inside the bushes. I called out first and cursed because I thought this was some kind of prank. The man kept just dragging me along and I tried to fight him off but he was so strong and then he slapped me and told me to shut up.”

His breaths are shorter now, almost asthmatic and his grip on my hand tightens his knuckles white under the swollen area. My heart beats faster almost like I can feel the fear running through him and my body responds to it.

“Of course I didn’t I screamed bloody murder but the house was so far away and the music and the chatter of the people so loud. Nobody heard me crying for help.”

“What time was that Bill?” the officers interrupt him. As Bill tells him that it was about 1 am I have to shut my eyes for a brief moment, hating myself for sitting in my hotel room and playing stupid Grand Theft Auto while my precious brother was being kidnapped. Why couldn’t I feel it?

“Then he put something over my mouth, like a cloak that smelled really bad. Next thing I know is that I wake up in this…this….basement.” He shivers and I pull the blanket higher even though I know it’s not the air in the room that makes him shiver.

“Can you describe the basement and what state you were in?” the officers voice is neutral and he doesn’t rush Bill to answer him. I just think he could show a little empathy, is it normal that he is no neutral and unfazed?

“I…I…I was…naked”, Bill whispers, his voice almost tuning out at the last word. My stomach churns and intense nausea hits me. Tears well up in his beautiful honey colored eyes, they hold the expression of pure horror and devastation and I just know that we are going to hear way worse before Bill ends his story.

“The basement was empty, just a matrass on the floor and a metal door. No windows and I only could see because there was light coming in from under the door.”

“I was so terrified I cried for help, I cried for Tom, I was so alone.” The first tear slides down his cheeks and his voice cracks. Nothing can hold me on my chair anymore and I just hug him, almost lift him off the bed. At times I forget how lithe he is, I just hold him flush against my own body as if I could protect him from the on slaughter of horrific memories.

The officer clears his throat and I let reluctantly go of Bill.

“What happened after you woke up in that basement?” He asks and I hate him for being so merciless with his questions.

“After a while he comes into the room. I try to get away from him but I can hardly move because he has my arms restraint. I beg him to let me go, I offer him money or anything else he wants just if he lets me go. But he….he just….” A sob escapes him and he presses his hands over his mouth almost as if to physically stop the sobs from coming.

“He just laughed and said all he ever wanted is…me.” Bill is now curled into a tiny ball, hugging his legs with his arms.

“Please …I can’t ….please” he whimpers and I just ignore the looks the officers give each other and climb onto the bed behind him.

I wrap my arms around his body and press my face in the crack of his neck. Some of the tension leaves his body even though he is still shaking with sobs. In that very moment I don’t care about what the officers think. I just know that my brother needs me and right now he needs me to hold him so I do. But nobody comments on it anyway.

“Bill, I know this is difficult but we are done really soon. Tell me can you describe the man?” 

The officer prods and I really want him to just shut up but I also know that Bill has to make his statement so I don’t say anything.

“He was tall, maybe 190, he wore….he wore a mask but I could see his hands they were white.” Bill whispers hoarsely.

“I started to yell again and he punches me again in the face and tells me that this will…hurt more if I am not quiet. He touched me and I tried to fight him but he just held me down there was nothing I could do” Bill quivers and I caress his back to calm him down even though I don’t feel my own hands anymore.

I feel completely numb and I am not far from retching over this bed. The thought of this man touching Bill makes me want to scream, and hurt and murder. I swear to God if I find this man I will torture him slowly.  
My thoughts are interrupted by the officer asking Bill do describe what that man had done to him.

“He touched me everywhere, and punched me as soon as I tried to fight him. He…took his own clothes off and….he tried to….he tried to rape me but he couldn’t…..enter my body…he cursed and hit me saying that I was too tight and that I should relax that it would hurt less.”

His very words shake me to my core and I stumble out of the bed into the adjoining bathroom retching over the white sink. My stomach is empty so nothing leaves my body besides burning acid.

My heart is beating like it is about to jump out of my chest and I can’t stop my own tears from falling. How could all this happen to my soulmate without me feeling anything? Without knowing that something was wrong? I am such a failure as a brother I do not know how I ever can look in those beautiful eyes of Bills again knowing that all of this is my fault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't lurk, comment instead :-)


	5. Chapter 5

I can hear him call out my name and for a brief moment I just hesitate. Now I know why the psychologist was so insistent on getting professional help. Bill has gone through the most horrific ordeal anyone can imagine and he firmly believes that I can help him through this, that I can help him heal. The truth is I have no idea how to take away the pain and the horror from my baby brother. I loosen my steel grip on the sink and splash some water in my face. I am not the victim here, he is and I have to be the strong one even if hearing his story rips my insides apart.

As I step out the bathroom I am surprised to find the room empty besides Bill looking way to fragile and small in the big hospital bed. He looks down at his folded hands which leave me with no chance of making eye contact with him.

“I am sorry Bill” I hesitate before taking his hands in mine but decide that he can tell me if he doesn’t want me to hold them.

“Don’t be…I know that I am disgusting now, tainted and broken.” He still refuses to meet my eyes and his words cut through me like butcher knives. None of this is true and that he sees himself like this makes me want to cry and scream at the same time.

“No Bill! No that is just not true!”

I step forward and take his face into my hands. I caress his wounded cheeks and the blue area under his eyes with my fingertips. I still can’t believe that someone could hurt this innocent creature, hate this sweet angel so much that he had to endure all that pain.

The only part of his face that isn’t wounded is his nose so I decide to put a feathery kiss on the tip of it. Surprise light up his eyes and the ghostly smile is back for the briefest of moments. The truth is of the two of us he is the more affectionate one who initiates hugs and cuddles. Even though I always enjoy having him close and feel his body against mine it doesn’t come natural to me to display my feelings like that. I also know that he often wishes for more affection and I often ignore that because I focus too much on what others think.

He has never been bothered so much about the fact that people find us weird: the strange twins with the special connection. I am not ashamed of it but I don’t want to fuel that people look suspicious at us. Right now of course I could kick my stupid ass from here to Europe for being an ignorant asshole. I almost lost him today and from now on I will let no chance to hug or cuddle slip by unnoticed.

“You are my Bill, my beautiful sweet angel and I love you. You are not tainted.”

“Tomi…” he trails off and a pink blush colors his cheeks. I can feel the heat rise from my neck to my face and I am pretty sure that I look pretty much like a tomato myself. Did I really just say that?

I have definitely watched too much movies together with Bill. But how cheezy this may have sounded its nothing but the truth. However it feels a little bit strange to be that open and honest with my feelings, even towards Bill. He always knew that I love him, of course he does but I am not sure when I – if ever- have expressed it with actual words.

I clear my throat and try not to bounce on my heels. This whole situation is nervracking and my brain feels so fuzzy at times. Almost no sleep and being terrified for more than 24 hours does that to people.

“Where is the police?” I ask to maneuver our conversation to safer subjects.

“They thought that I could use a break and went to fetch some coffee for all of us”, he explains, dragging the blanket closer around him.

I sigh because this means that all this is not over yet and that Bill has to continue his statement besides the fact that it affects him so severely.

“Are you cold?” He really looks like he is freezing, the skin on his hands is almost translucent white which highlight his swollen knuckles even more.

I remember the sport bag which now sits on the floor besides the chair I sat in. I dig through its contents and am happy to see that the G’s were really thoughtful and packed warm comfortable clothes alongside with some of Bills magazines and his Ipad.  
I pull out a grey pair of trainings trousers, a black shirt that is Bills favorite even though it has several holes in it and a grey fuzzy sweatshirt.

“Time to get you in some clothes!” I sound more cheerful than the situation calls for but right now I have trouble finding the right balance.

“Thank you,” Bill looks at least pleased with my choice of clothes. I put the clothes in his extracted hands and he sits up, folds the blanket aside and turns around.

He struggles a bit with the bathrobe, his movements are slow and every time he changes his position he flinches and a painful expression covers his features. I wonder why he is in pain until I hear his words ring in my ears and I all of a sudden understand why he has had trouble moving and sitting.

“Let me help you,” I remove the bathrobe and try to give him as much privacy as possible while he sits in front of me completely naked.

But my eyes travel involuntarily over his body and my heart clenches at the sight. The area around his right ribcage shifts in red and blue, scratches cover his torso and I am sure that I don’t want to know how he got them. Not long ago I saw his body in the shower but the sight hasn’t lost anything of its horror. I help him to put his clothes on and by the time the officers arrive with four steaming cups he is back in his bed, warm and hopefully safe.

We take the cups out of the officer’s hands and sip thankfully. The hot liquid is just what I need right now to keep my spirits up and be strong for Bill.

“If its ok with you Bill, I’d like to continue,” Officer Brown opens up the conversation again as soon as everyone sits comfortably again.

“Bill, before we took a break you said this man tried to rape you. I am sorry that I have to ask this but it is crucial for the charges he is going to have to face in court. Did he rape you or gave he up?”

I bury my face in my hands and curse inwardly. I don’t understand how they can put someone who experienced something that traumatic through this merciless questioning.  
Bill bites down on his lips and folds the fabric of the blanket over and over again. His hands shake slightly.

“He tried to rape me….until he finally succeeded. I just…couldn’t fight him off anymore. I know I shouldn’t have given in but it hurt too much….” He trails off and the tears are back in his eyes.

“Bill this is not your fault. I want you to know that you are really brave and you fought as much as you could.” The officer gets up from his chair and put briefly a hand on Bills shoulder but steps back immediately as he feels Bill draw back.

“I think we are done for today, we will talk more over the next couple of days but I think we don’t need to go on today.”

The both police officers gather their belongings and leave the room with a small wave and a smile. I am glad that they are finally gone and that Bill escapes their prodding questions.

“Now you can get some rest,” I put a kiss on Bills folded hands. I just wish I could take the pain and the fear away from him and bear it myself.

“I don’t think I can rest. As soon as I close my eyes…he is there again. I can still feel him…Tomi please make it go away,” he sobs and curls himself up to a ball again. Now that the police is gone it becomes clear that he hasn’t the strength anymore hold his feelings inside.

I hesitate a second before folding the blanket aside and climbing into the bed with him. He is so slim there is plenty of space to fit both of us. I’ll spoon him from behind, trapping his legs between mine and hold his slender hands. For a second my heart flutters and I am aware that our position right now isn’t exactly brotherly. But for now I don’t care because I am reacting purely on instinct and what our connection tells me. Right now he needs to feel me and I am more than happy to comply.

“Shhh baby, just focus on my heartbeat and my breathing. It’s just you and me, nobody else. Just try to concentrate on my body against yours, there is nothing you have to be afraid of because I am right here protecting you.” Bill sniffles and tightens his grip on my hand.

I can feel his heart beating fast like a scared bird but as the minutes pass by the tension leaves his body and his heartbeat calms down considerably. The tears stop flowing and he closes his eyes. I can tell how sleepy he is but something keeps him from giving into the secure embrace of sleep.

“Tomi, you stay with me right? Forever? Even if nobody else ever wants me again.”

I caress the silky strands of his hair and massage his head lightly. He makes those small noises that tell me that he is relaxed in my arms.

“I’ll stay with you until the end of time. But I am sure I am gonna have big competition by all the people who for sure want you.” A low chuckle escapes me as I picture a long line of people cueing to get any attention from Bill. Sometimes he truly doesn’t realize how truly beautiful and wonderful he is.

“Mmm I just want you, no one else” he mumbles and I am sure he already is halfway gone to dreamland. But something in that statement gives me great satisfaction, probably more than I should feel.


	6. Chapter 6

I wake up because I hear footsteps approach and sheets rustling. A nurse has entered the room pushing a cart with what seems to be lunch or dinner. I have no idea how long we have slept but I am not surprised that I drifted off as well. Lack of sleep in combination with the warm comfort of Bills body made it impossible for me to stay awake. I have to remind myself that I don’t need to stay awake because he is here, in my arms, wounded but safe. But I guess the instinctive need to protect him is always going to be a part of me, especially after what he went through.

I am glad that he sleeps deep and doesn’t seem haunted by nightmares at the moment. The nurse nods and smiles friendly, but I could see the confusion in her eyes as she looked at our sleeping arrangement. I wonder how long I can keep laying here before it raises question. Maybe I can talk to Dr. Anderson and see if I can stay here with him every night until he can go home. I know that the official visiting hours are between 10am and 6pm but I just know that I can’t leave him alone. He wouldn’t sleep a single minute.

“I have brought some lunch for the two of you. I guess you haven’t eaten since you came in a couple of hours ago”, the nurse whispers in an attempt not to wake Bill.

It really shows that the staff here is used to handling traumatic cases. Nobody besides Dr.Anderson has crowded Bill or invaded his personal space. The two times nurses came to check his blood pressure they kindly asked if they could touch his arm and did so very professional. I don’t know if it is easier for him if a woman touches him but he didn’t seem bothered by it.

“Thank you”, I equally keep a low voice. She puts the food on a dining table in one corner of the room and leaves on quick feet. My stomach growls to remind me that I haven’t eaten in a long time. I look at Bill but his features show no traces that he is about to wake up so I’ll climb cautiously out of the bed and take a seat at the table.

I lift the cover of one of the plates and discover fried fish and mashed potatoes with gravy underneath it. I am not happy about that dish because I like to eat completely vegetarian food however on occasion I eat fish if nothing else is available. And my stomach reminds me that now is definitely the occasion to make an exception.

I start eating so fast I don’t even taste the food but right now my body screams for nourishment. Halfway through the plate I a sudden burst of anxiety makes me lift my head.

I look around the room because this feeling is so strange but I can’t see anything that might have caused it. However Bills face shows traces of fear and horror; he has gone from a deep and calm sleep to moving around restlessly in the big bed. Thats when I realize that the unsettling feeling of unease radiates from him and that he is probably having a bad dream.

“No..please….stop….don’t do that …please..” he whimpers fearfully and even from my chair at the table I can see how the tears stream down his battered cheeks.

With a sigh a look at my half eaten plate and reluctantly leave the table. I don’t know if I leaving his side was what caused this change to the worse or if it would have happened eventually anyway. Even though my stomach still grumbles disapprovingly I can’t let him continue having this nightmare.

“Bill!” I put my hands on his shoulders and shake him slightly. He feels so bony underneath my hands and I imagine how easy it was for that man to bruise his precious white skin.

Bill opens his eyes directly after I called out his name. In the first few seconds I see nothing in his eyes but pure horror and deep fear. The seconds pass slowly until I see recognition in his eyes, until those chestnut brown orbs connect with mine like they used to. His features soften immediately and he takes a deep breath as if he was holding it. Sweat has gathered on his forehead and darkened his blond hairline.

“Everything is ok, you are with me and safe”, I whisper, almost like talking to a scared animal. 

A few more seconds pass until he reaches out with his arms and I get to hug him tightly. I press my dry forehead against his moist one and wish once again I could bear the pain for him.

Despite the comfortable temperature in the room and his warm clothes goosebumps are scattered all over his skin. His hands are ice-cold and almost blue in the harsh hospital light. I take them into my own and start stroking his palms, cautiously massaging his swollen knuckles and cold fingers. Almost immediately the unhealthy blue color disappears which probably means that his blood flow works again properly.

Bill has closed his eyes again but I know that he is awake. I understand him, sometimes you just want to shut the world out and drown in blackness.  
The signature ringtone of my iPhone startles me and I feel guilty the moment I read “mum” on the screen. I sigh and hesitate to answer but deep down I know that she has a right to hear how Bill is doing and even talk to him if he wants to.

“Hi ma…” I can’t even finish my greeting when she starts crying into my ear asking about her little boy. I explain to her that Bill has given his statement to the police, been examined and that he was fine despite some wounds and dehydration, at least physically.

“Mum I am not putting him on the phone while you are so hysterical, you need to calm down.”

Of course she wants to know what happened but I am not going to tell her any details, if Bill wants to talk about it he can but this is his decision. In the corner of my eyes I can see Bill shaking his head and I tell our mum that she can call back later when Bill feels strong enough for talking. After all those years she still questions sometimes that I know what is best for my little brother but fact is I do.

But one question my mother asked is really important, one I was to fuzzy and exhausted to ask while the police talked to Bill.

“She calls back later,” I tell him and smile softly at the identical sigh that leaves his body as well as mine.

“I want to ask you something…you don’t need to answer if you don’t want to talk about it but how did the police find you?”

Bill furrows his brows and looks down at the blanket. I give him all the time he needs to answer, I am not rushing him into anything but I would like to know.

“They didn’t. He let me go. When he was..finished with me…he just dragged me out to that van again and dumped me in the neighborhood the party was in. Like used, foul garbage. That’s what I am now.”

The bitterness of his words makes me regret that I even asked and I am at loss at how to heal his deep wounds. I shake my head and tell him that he shouldn’t say so, that it is not true.

“But look at me…after this…how will anyone see something else but the tainted victim? And how will I ever let anyone else touch me without feeling disgusted and horrified. I am going to die broken and alone.” He turns his head away and moves to his side as if it was to exhausting actually facing me and facing the cruel world.

“Bill, my sweet angel in time you will be able to feel something else than disgust at the touches of another person. You will feel love, attraction and passion again.” I slowly rub circles on his back as I speak.

“But how do you know? Maybe I don’t maybe all I ever feel is his touches on my skin, inside me.” He shudders and I can hear him gag but he doesn’t throw up.

I am thankful for that because I know he hates it so much. Not that anyone likes vomiting but he has a special phobia for it. I sigh and continue rubbing his back, lost in thought. He is right, how can I know? I don’t know what it is like to experience something so horrific and life changing. But deep down in my heart I just feel that he is going to be ok again in time.

“Bill, you are the most affectionate person I know. It is a part of who you are, maybe that part is buried for now but in time it will come back to you.”

I try to convince him but his silence tells me that he doesn’t believe a word I say. A thought pops up in my head that is quite unsettling. Is it even ok that I touch him? I never asked if I could I just assumed that it would be alright because it’s me. Maybe deep down he doesn’t want to be touched and is too nice to tell me off. My thoughts race through my head like a rollercoaster and chase each other. I thought he was initiating contact but it could be that it was just something I wished for an interpreted his signs wrong.

“Billa, you can tell me if you don’t want me to be near you and touch you. I understand that it is difficult for you with physical contact at the moment. I am sorry that I didn’t consider this before.”

“What?” He is now facing me again, his brows furrowed, the right one almost traveling up to his hairline.

“I mean …you said that being touched is disgusting to you now…so I thought I’d ask”, I trail off because of the expression on his face.

I can tell right away that he is not pleased at all. He has exactly that look on his face that the entire Tokio Hotel staff fears. It is the expression that tells you that you screwed up royally and that you better make it right ASAP.

“Tom Kaulitz, you are an idiot. So ignorant, unbelievable. You really have the EQ of fly haven’t you?” He grunts and I wish very much to transform myself into a fly.

Because I am still a human being with the emotional competence of a worm I just stand there looking stupid. Right now I am at loss what to say, not even sure what exactly pissed him off that much. That I asked or that I didn’t ask soon enough? Sometimes Bill is an enigma even to me. The silence is becoming uncomfortable and I look around the room in an attempt to find an excuse to leave for a couple of minutes without it looking like I am fleeing from our conversation.

Before I find something he takes my hand into his, I haven’t even noticed that I had balled them into hard fists.

“Please don’t stop touching me. When you touch me it feels like you are erasing him from my body. Feeling your body besides me is like all the broken pieces of my soul finally stick together again. Just…if you want to do anything then touch me more not less.”

His eyes glisten and a light blush colors his cheeks. It must not be easy to ask for more affection of your ignorant twin who has denied it far too often in the past. But he doesn’t know that I regret that immensly and that I wish someone would punch me in the face for every time I ignored his pleading eyes. 

I don’t even know why, or at least I don’t like to dwell on why. At times I was just scared that I loved him too fiercely, needed him too much and I tried to bring some distance to our relationship. Now that I almost lost him I am not scared anymore of the closeness we share. Maybe because I learned what it would be like to life without him. In these terrible and fearful hours I realize that I already love him more than anyone else in my life and that I would give up anything for him. The distance I believed to have created was nothing but an illusion in the first place.

My phone beeps again and this time I am almost thankful for the interruption. I have never been good at handling heavy subjects; I just make jokes and hope no one notices how uncomfortable I really am. But a joke doesn’t really seem appropriate at the moment so I keep my mouth shut and check my messages instead.

As I read the incoming message I know trouble is waiting even on another front. I just might have forgotten about my girlfriend. Or ok I remember she exists of course but I just didn’t think of her the past two days or so, haven’t answered one of her messages and ignored all the calls. To my defense I was preoccupied with losing my baby brother and getting him back. It is still kind of unsettling how easily she was erased of my mind when things went hell shaped.

I guess that’s what she always complains about: my “lack of emotional investment in our relationship” as she likes to call it. I just gave her more to complain about and I consider the option to throw my phone out of the window, that way I have a good excuse why I am not answering.

I sit down on the chair again and bury my face in my hands. Why has everything always to be complicated? Everyone demanding attention, time and love. It is exhausting really and this relationship has long ago become more troublesome than happy. Ria is a nice girl, beautiful and fun but the truth is it is exhausting if someone demands things from you all the time that you can’t give.

She wants to be priority number one in my life and I have made it clear a hundred times that no one else than Bill holds this place in my life and my heart.

“Whats up?” Bills voice sounds muffled through my hands.

“Ria”, I just say her name because he knows that when her name usually comes up it means trouble.

Bills expression pretty much looks like when he is eating Broccoli but he tries to mask that immediately. I know him better than that anyway and am fully aware the he doesn’t like her.

It all started with Ria demanding to sit on his spot on the sofa besides me. The indignation on his face was just diva worthy. Since then there is a bitch fight going on between the two of them, however they try to hide it from me but I am neither stupid nor blind.

Of course Bill usually wins those fights because what Bill wants he usually gets and he outranks many women in bitchiness and diva attitude. I find it adorable.

God what’s wrong with me.


	7. Chapter 7

The days in the hospital passed by more quickly than anyone could expect. Bill talked to the police twice during all this time: once to go over some details regarding the building and the surroundings where he had been held and once to help an officer to draw a phantom image of the man who did all this to him. Both times he was very courageous and answered all the questions as detailed as he could even if doing so made him feel terrified.

Bill even talked to our mother which was really necessary because she was being a real pain in the ass. But I won’t hold it against her, after all her little boy got kidnapped and raped. I am not sure how much she knows of the ordeal Bill went through. He kept his story for her pretty vague and I guess she didn’t have the heart to question him further.

We both persuaded her to stay in Germany because Bill needs time to heal properly and I think he does so best at our own home, with just me and occasionally the G’s around. We love our mother but she would make such fuzz over Bill and the thing he needs the most now is normalcy. Get back into some normal daily routine is exactly what he needs right now. Here in the hospital he is constantly reminded of the horrible thing that happened to him. Not that I expect him to forget everything once we are home but it is at least an attempt to focus on his healing rather than the terrifying events.

Dr. Anderson has been around once in a while but he seems to accept now that Bill doesn’t want his help. I was very grateful when he told the nurses to bring in an extra bed so that I could stay here with Bill. Of course I only use that bed whenever the nurses and doctors are on their rounds. They keep a pretty steady schedule so it wasn’t a problem to put together when I should be in my own bed. Of course the time between these rounds I spend in Bills bed, hugging him tightly to prevent the nightmares from entering his sleep.

It doesn’t work every time but mostly he sleeps deeply and calm and when he has a nightmare occasionally I am right there by his side to chase it away. The best method of doing so is to kiss him lightly on his cheeks or sometimes when he is far gone on his lips. I don’t dwell much on what all of this means or if this is even normal. All I know is that Bill needs me and I am not going to deny him anything that take away some of the deep pain that rips his insides apart.

To be perfectly honest it is not like I am disgusted by these kisses and just do it for him. I like the way he presses his plush lips against mine and how he sighs contently while doing so. It is nothing I would have ever imagined if someone had asked me what I think it would feel like to kiss my brother. I probably would have said gross or maybe that it probably would feel like nothing at all. However this is very far from reality because when I kiss him chastely I feel a myriad of feelings that range from protectiveness, love and devotion to butterflies in my stomach.

Is this supposed to feel that way? I don’t even know because I have never kissed my soulmate before maybe it is perfectly normal to feel like these kisses are just a natural melting of the bodies to mirror already melt souls.  
Yesterday I also broke up with Ria. As I expected I was in big trouble for not getting in touch over so many days. When I explained to her what happened she didn’t react understanding at all but accused me of being a bad boyfriend for not coming to her in such a crucial situation. It honestly never occurred to me that I could go to her for comfort and support and that says pretty much everything about our relationship.

She didn’t break up with me. She would have forgiven me like she always does no matter how many mistakes I make and how many times I push her aside. But as I was standing in the hospital park, freezing and almost inhaling my cigarette as I talked to her I realized the only thing that I wanted was get back to my little brother, protect him and care for him.

The truth is that I hadn’t anything left to give to her and I think she knew that to. I set her free so that she can find the man that deserves this fantastic women and not an idiot like me who really wanted to love her but couldn’t because his heart was never available in the first place.  
Sometimes it takes an traumatic event to realize that your truths are nothing but an illusion and that you are keeping your eyes shut because you are afraid of what you might see when you open them. I finally had the courage to open mine and what I saw had been by my side all along since the very day I was conceived.

The things people want you to believe can be so blinding that you after a while believe those thoughts are your own. It is not easy to pause and think for yourself when society is screaming their morals at you all day every day. The only way of escaping that trap you create for yourself is to go inside and listen to what your heart tells you. Sometimes you need to get lost to be able to find yourself and your very source of happiness.

Today we can finally go home and Bill has been excited and annoying all day. He hasn’t been still in one spot all day but walked around the hospital room like a caged tiger. He isn’t that weak anymore and his wounds are healing very well. He doesn’t flinch with every change of position so I guess the wounds that the monster inflicted on him on his private parts have mostly healed as well. Unfortunately it will take much longer until his wounded soul experiences some healing.

I am sitting on my chair and watch him pack his few belongings into that sports bag. I am grateful that he opens up to me whenever he feels afraid and sad. Hearing some of the details of his ordeal is always difficult but I understand that he needs to talk about these things in order to get better. All the trust he has shown me is a great honor and I am proud of the way he tries to look forward even if it isn’t easy for him.

Bill has even talked to the G’s on the phone and asked them to come over to pick us up. I could feel how relieved they were to hear his voice and I feel a little bit bad for not keeping them in the loop. But Bill and me have kind of lived in this bubble, were we just focused on each other.

I hear footsteps approach and I can’t help but smile widely as the door is opened and I can see the tousled brown hair of my very best friend Georg. Gustav enters the room after him almost pushing Georg aside as he catches sight of Bill. It is lovely to see Bills reaction when Gustav sweeps him off his feet and just hugs him in one of his bone crushing hugs. I am relieved that Bill neither tenses up nor draws back, a fact that gives me hope that in time he will be ok again.

I myself feel the strong need to hug Georg and as I do so I realize how much I missed these two men and how much we need them to get through this all. Georg chuckles, probably a little surprised by my very emotional greeting. Deep in his eyes however I can see understanding and compassion and that is all I need at the moment.

As I draw back from Georg I see that Gustav is still hugging Bill, whispering things in his ear while Bill is smiling. An irrational pang of jealousy washes some of the happiness away. Gustav and Bill have always been close, he is Bills best friend as well as Georg is mine. I have never paid a second thought to their closeness but somewhere deep down I don’t like the way Bill is trustfully pressing his body against Gustavs broad one.

The moment is over as soon as these thoughts formed themselves in my head and Bill is stepping back and takes his natural position at my side. The G’s have a thousand questions and Bill is answering them patiently. I can’t help but sneak an arm around his slim waist and get rewarded by the way his body is melting into mine. If the G’s find our behavior strange they do at least not comment on it and overall they show lots of support and refer from asking prodding questions about what that monster did to Bill.

“Are we ready to go home then?” Georg asks and lifts Bills sport bag of the bed and steps out into the hallway.

As we go down the now familiar hallway nurses and doctors stop to say goodbye to us. Even though Bill has just been here five days everyone has taken him into their hearts. I know no other person that charms people so easily as Bill does. Just one smile and people are laying at his feet and who am I to judge because I am just laying there with everybody else. He knows that I can’t deny him anything and he takes advantage of that very frequently.

Georg had taken our black SUV to pick us up and I am glad for the black windows that make it impossible to look inside. I am not sure but I think I saw a paparazzi lurking about.

“So tell us, how bad is it? How much of this has leaked out to the press?” I just have to ask and take a deep breath because I am afraid that we are not going to like the answer. Before my mind’s eye I see endless interviews were Bill is going to be asked inappropriate private questions about what happened to him.

“Relax, Tom. Everything is fine, or sort of. Of course the press noticed that something was going on at that party with all the police cars arriving. But the police had secured the perimeter before everything leaked out. There was a picture of Tom going in to the hotel and later the hospital but we made a statement that Bill had fractured his ankle during some commotion at the fashion party. This explains both how the events at the party are connected to Bills stay at the hospital and what the police was doing there.”

Pure relief washes through me along with gratefulness for these wonderful friends who have thought of everything to spare Bill from more suffering.

“Thank you so much!” Bill whispers and leans forward to squeeze Georg’s shoulder and he briefly covers Bills hands with one of his own.

“Don’t mention it we are just so happy that you are here back with us. You know we are not going to let you out of our sight in the near future?!”

“Is that right? That sounds so much fun; does that mean all of you are accompanying me on my next shopping tour?” Bill squeaks in delight and three men sigh heavily but don’t object.

All of a sudden we have arrived in front of our little house. The gates are closed and I can see surprisingly many security guards up front.

“What are they doing here?” I wonder and look at the G’s for answers.

Gustav shrugs and explains that he ordered a higher security protocol just to be sure for the next couple of weeks. I nod thankfully, during all this commotion I kind of forgot that the man who has done those horrible things to Bill is still out there somewhere. Until they catch him I think it is wise to have more security around.

“Are you coming with us to eat dinner?” Bill asks the G’s who shake their head.

The G’s rent an apartment in the same area as our house because they live permanently in Germany but rent the same apartment whenever they are in the states with us. They explain that they have a meeting with our staff just to make sure they all know what is going on and that Bill is home again safely.

“No,no, no don’t even think about it!” I use my strict voice and look sternly into Bills chestnut colored eyes. I know all too well that he wanted to attend that meeting but I won’t allow any work for at least two more weeks.

Bill pouts in a very cute way but seems to realize that all the adorable pouting in the world isn’t going to change my mind so he says goodbye to the G’s and I follow him out of the car. Right now I am kind of glad the G’s had no time to join us for dinner because that pout of Bills reminded me that I haven’t gotten a kiss all day long.

We great the security guards by waving at them and they all seem happy to see Bill safe and sound judging by the looks on their faces. I open the front door and step into our small house. People probably think we live fancier than we actually do. It is just a small four bedroom house, with a tiny pool and a garden for our dogs. The most important thing however is that the house is in a secure neighborhood and has lots of safety features.

I pause and close my eyes for one moment just to enjoy the feeling of being home. The scent of vanilla greets me from the countless bottles of potpourri that Bill has scattered throughout the house.

“Where are the dogs?” Bill asks stepping inside behind me his body almost touching mine.

“They are with the G’s; they come over with them tomorrow or tonight if you can’t wait.” I turn around and face my little brother who looks a little disappointed that he isn’t going to get dog cuddles right now.

My mind is still focused on his lips which are looking very plush and slightly moist. I lean forward to put a light kiss on them and the already familiar butterflies start their dance inside my stomach. Bill doesn’t seem surprised and responds to my kiss immediately by closing the distance between us and pressing his body against mine. I realize that we are home now and don’t have to be on the look out for doctors and nurses who can interrupt us any moment so I don’t stop the kiss after a couple of seconds as I usually would. Instead I enjoy the taste and feel of him and the craving for more takes over my body. Before I can stop myself I lick at his lower lip, wanting to intensify the experience.

I am afraid he doesn’t like this but my worries are unnecessary because the small noises he makes can just be described as joyful. I cautiously dip my tongue into the warm and moist cave of his mouth and am surprised by the electric sensation that sets my nerves on fire. I have never felt like this while kissing before. I meet his tongue deep inside his mouth and when he licks at my own my whole body clenches in the sweetest ache.

I break the kiss because I feel like I am losing control and we step away from each other panting. A blush colors his cheeks and he has his eyes bashfully on the floor.

“Are you ok, Billa? I whisper and trace his red lips with m fingertips.

“Can you do that…again…sometime?” He asks with glistening eyes and hell yes of course I can.


	8. Chapter 8

Being home is definitely what we needed. The house feels like a welcoming and warm embrace. We have been on tour a while and just knowing that we will sleep in our own beds tonight feels really good. I am wondering if Bill wants me to join him tonight like I did at the hospital or if Pumba’s company is enough. I hope that he wants me to be there with him but I am not going to object if he wants to sleep alone in his own bed. The important thing is that he is happy and comfortable.

Right now he is sitting on the sofa, staring concentrated at the screen on his Ipad. I guess he is checking the news for anything about the band or himself. He does that quiet a lot even during normal circumstances. He is such a perfectionist and if he could he would control every single tweet and article written about us. Often it cheers him up to read what the aliens write, he really cares about them and their opinions. He can’t stand when security is treating the fans badly just because they want an autograph or a hug. He always pauses whatever we are doing to take some time for the fans waiting at airports or in front of the hotels we are staying at. He can be tired to his bones and still have a genuine smile for the aliens he is meeting along the way.

I flip through the various brochures in our kitchen cupboard to decide what we should have for dinner or in more accurate terms: which take out place to choose from this time. We are really not interested in cooking and our skills are limited to heat precooked meals in the microwave. I am however really good at the art of making sandwiches because I have discovered the exact ratio of cheese, bread, onions, tomatoes and mustard. I frequently make sandwiches for the bandmates but truthfully the G’s seem not always to be very excited about them.

I don’t care very much about that though because I know Bill loves my sandwiches. Often I just make them to see his eyes sparkle in that special way, a look only reserved for me or at least I have never seen him looking like that for anybody else.

“Bill, what do you want for dinner?”, I pause my efforts to find anything by myself and ask him instead. 

He looks up from whatever he is doing and bites his lips thoughtfully. As I wait for my brother to come up with anything I try not to focus on his lips because I really need to prevent this from becoming a new obsession of mine. After all I do not know what all of this even means and how long this is going to last, if it is a temporary change to our relationship or a permanent one.

There is the distinctive possibility that once Bill has healed from his traumatic experience that he won’t need me as much as he does now, including cuddles and the unbrotherly kisses. I try not to focus my thoughts on that because I want to focus on helping him getting better in any way I can. But in moments like this when I look at him it is difficult to not be scared of the possibility of losing what we have now.

We haven’t talked about the changes to our relationship and I guess up until this afternoon and the kiss there was no need because the changes were so subtle. But now it becomes harder to ignore and harder to explain. I don’t want to burden him by talking about it though because he has so much to deal with even without my worries and chaotic thoughts. So I keep them to myself, trying to be there for him whenever he needs me.

“I want pancakes for dinner!” he explains and excitement covers his features. 

”Erm…panncakes…right…” I look helplessly through the brochures already aware of the fact that I probably won’t find any take out restaurant that offers pancakes. I shrug and throw the brochures back into the cupboard, closing the drawer with a thud.

“Maybe I can go to the store and buy some frozen ones,” I think out lout and join Bill on the sofa. The buttery fabric caves in a little as I sit down.

Bill frowns and looks really unhappy.

“I don’t like the frozen ones; I want warm homemade pancakes with Nutella.” His eyes sparkle and he smiles lightly, a sight that I have missed so much over the last couple of days that my heart clenches at the thought that I have to disappoint him.

“Bill, I am so sorry but I don’t know how to make pancakes”, I look down on my hands and try to fight off the irrational pang of guilt. He knows as well as me that we both are terrible in the kitchen.

“I think we should try it. Can’t be that difficult can it? The G’s said they got supplies for us let’s check if we have anything we need for pancakes. “In the matter of seconds he is on his feet and in the kitchen, opening up all of the kitchen cabinets, the fridge and a couple of drawers.

“How do you even know what we need to make pancakes?” I ask curiously because honestly I have no idea how to make them.

“That’s easy, because I sometimes watched mum cook them for us. We need flour, eggs, milk and sugar I think.” He hums lowly as he finds the needed items and put them onto the kitchen counter.

“Now we just need to google it, easy!” Bill exclaims and looks very smug.

30 minutes later we have learned that things that look easy can be the exact opposite sometimes. The whole kitchen floor is covered in flour. A doughy substance is smeared on nearly every surface and Bill looks ridiculous covered in flour from top to toe. His hair is standing in every direction and the smell of something burned is invading our house.  
I am sitting on the floor, laughing so hard I couldn’t stand upright anymore also covered in flour. Bill looks absolutely ridiculous and I just burst out in even more laughter when I look at him. He tries to flip one of our creations (I don’t even dare to call them pancakes) and almost loses grip on the pan.

Seriously we are so clumsy when it comes to practical things thank God we became rockstars because what else could we have done with our lack in basic skills?

Bill glares daggers at me from his position behind the stove and I pop my tongue out just to annoy him further. He shuts the stove off, probably realizing that we can’t eat those things without getting sick.

“You!” he pokes me into the chest with one finger. He looks completely frustrated which fuels the comical situation. I know he really wanted to have pancakes but I told him before we started that there is no way we could pull that off.

Instead of answering I just throw my arms around his waist and drag him down to the floor with me. I realize I used to much force as he crushes against my body and I fall backwards. I bump my head on the tiles and close my eyes for a moment. That hurt a bit.

I feel Bills breathe on my face and I am sure he is looking down on me his eyes filled with concern. As I open mine I see that I really know my brother inside out. There he is staring at my face as if I was about to stop breathing.

I rub with my thumbs over his cheeks, getting some of the flour on my shirt. There is even flour in his eyebrows I don’t even know what he did to get it there, put his face into the bowl?

“What do you say about pizza?” I ask him and smile at the expression of content in his face.

“Mmmm….maybe later,” he says and the look in his eyes is unreadable for me. There is something new in the depths of them, a look I haven’t seen on him before.

I don’t get the chance to follow that train of thought because he leans down, pressing his warm and sweet tasting lips against mine. The following seconds drown in total bliss; the world and the universe consist of nothing but the warmth of his mouth and the silky moistness of his tongue. With every nerve I can feel the weight of his body pressed against mine.

I use my fleeing concentration to control my body but with every lick of his tongue the need becomes deeper. I am panting in his mouth, trying not to press the parts of me that are needy and swollen against him, rub me on him like perverted cat.

He breaks the kiss and draws back looking at me with big round eyes. He looks so innocent right at that moment, so vulnarable that I ask myself if I have lost my mind, taking advantage of his need for closeness like that. 

“Bill I am so sorry...I...oh god” I hide behind my hands, not able to look him in the eyes.

“Please believe me that I would never hurt you, or touch you in ways you don’t want. I am so sorry I got carried away.” Nothing but silence follows my apology and I have to peek between my fingers. He is still there, sitting on my lap and looking down on me. 

He doesn’t look scared or horrified, he looks mostly curious and a little puzzled maybe.

“Tom, I know” he takes my hands and directs them away from my face. He softly strokes my palms with his fingertips until I can breath normally again.

“But...I would like to know….would you...touch me…if I wanted it? Hypothetically speaking”

A blush creeps up from his neck and I feel my own cheeks heat up at the question.

“It is just because…wherever you touch me I can’t feel that monster anymore. I just want to feel something else than the horror and the disgust.” 

“I’ll do everything for you!”


	9. Chapter 9

The human psyche works in mysterious ways. I just had a completely life changing conversation with my brother and yet here we are sitting on the sofa, watching a rerun of prison break, eating pizza like nothing has happened. I am beginning to think that our way of dealing with things is not the healthiest one. Instead of talking we act like all of this is completely normal and it just isn’t even if it feels natural to us. I don’t even know what Bill feels because of our complete lack of communication.

Right now I’d like to call Dr. Anderson and just ask for some advice. Not regarding Bills kidnapping but all the other stuff that has happened since. I am more scared than I’d like to admit because I don’t trust us and our ability to make the right choices anymore.

Deep down I am afraid that Bills kidnapping and everything he had to go through fueled this feelings inside of us that shouldn’t be there in the first place. I shouldn’t be longing for the sweetness of his mouth or the tender touches of his hands. I am wondering if those feelings would have eventually evolved between us even if he never had to go through this traumatic experience and I would never had to face the fear of losing him? I like to believe that this is something that always has been inside of us but that it surfaced faster because of the traumatic events. It would at least explain my lack of success in steady romantic relationships.

My biggest fear is that these feelings aren’t something that was supposed to happen to us but we were forced into because of everything that happened. Because this would also mean that in time when Bill heals these feelings are going to disappear and we will wake up one day asking ourselves what the fuck we are doing. But by then it will be too late, if we go one step further down this road there will be the point of no return when we change our relationship permanently and that’s something that can’t be undone even if we regret it later on.

“Tomi, tell me what is bothering you”, Bill demands putting his half eaten slice of pizza down on his plate and turns to face me instead of the TV. He is hugging his knees with both arms and rests his head on them, one of his favorite positions.

“I don’t even know how to explain and I don’t want to burden you,” I sigh in and stretch my arms in an attempt to get rid of the awkward feeling.

“I am not a porcelain doll, you know that right? Besides that we agreed on not having any secrets for each other years ago, so spill it.”

Bills eyes lock with mine and his attention is fully focused on me judging by his concentrated expression. I rub my temples slowly to fight off the light pressure behind my eyes, the first signs of an incoming headache.

“What happened between us…it is confusing. I am afraid, so afraid of many things: hurting you, making the wrong choices, being a bad brother but most of all I am scared shitless of losing you.”

As I speak the words I realize that this is the core for my feelings of unease and fear. I have never been in a more vulnerable situation, giving my heart away on a silver platter just hoping Bill will take good care of it. I try to fight the emotions off but all the feelings that were damned up inside of me spill over. Tears blurry my sight and I feel like a complete idiot, crying like a baby.

I just can’t stop it because I almost lost my baby brother and I can’t live or breathe without him, not one single second.

Before I can wrap my mind around what is happening I am lying in my brother’s lab, sobbing and crying as he softly pets my hair and murmurs words I don’t understand. I hold on to him like I am about to drown and in a way I am drowning in my own emotions. It takes me several minutes to calm down so that I can open my eyes and look at him.

He smiles down at me with one of those special smiles; a secretive little smile that we usually use to signal each other that we got each other’s back no matter what happens. His cool fingers stroke lightly over my cheeks to catch all the tears that won’t stop falling. His breath dances ghostly over my lips and I can’t form the thought that I need him to kiss me before he does, his lips pressed tenderly against mine. It is a light, reassuring and loving kiss, one that nourishes the soul rather than the body.

“You are not going to lose me. Maybe we’ll fight; maybe we’ll make mistakes and hurt each other but none of this matter because I will always be right by your side, loving you with all my heart.”

His words are like balm on my soul and some of the anxiety leaves my body.

“Do you think what happened between us just happened because of the kidnapping? I am so confused, how can I love you so much, be in love with you, my baby brother and twin?”

Bill rests his hand on my chest right above my heart and at first he smiles before he erupts into a low chuckle.

“Tomi you don’t really believe that do you?” His eyebrow is traveling up to his hairline again. Bill is looking at me like he thinks I am a moron, I don’t like that look very much.

“Of course that monster has nothing to do with this. Tomi, have you really never noticed that I had a crush on you since…well forever, or as long as I can remember.”

His words shake me to the core and I hastily sit up just to bump my head full force against his.

“Holy shit Tom, can you watch what you are doing!” Bill exclaims frustrated and rubs his forehead while shooting angry glances at me.

All of a sudden things get easier and we talk. A real talk about our feelings towards each other and what we think about the current situation. I learn about the hidden crush Bill had on me all these years and in a way I understand a lot of things better now. As he describes his feelings for me I realize they pretty much mirror my own, with the only difference that I am way to thickheaded to realize something like that on my own.

It is a relief to know that these feelings had been there all along and that it just needed something traumatic to make me realize what they were. I feel a little bit bad thinking about the multiple times I probably hurt Bills feelings without knowing it with the constant sleeping around as a teenager and then Ria.

By now Bill is curled up on my lap, his long slim legs folded around me. The thrill of pure excitement rushes through me as I caress his thigh and know that I am allowed to do that now. It feels like being high and on a roller coaster at the same time and I love every single second of it.

This time we kiss it feels different yet again. With the major uncertainties out of the way it is easier to just let go and not second guess yourself for every move. Now I let my heart lead me and focus only on what feels good for both of us. I feel a bit like a teenager, making out on the sofa, like doing something sinful and forbidden and maybe that’s exactly what this is.

His body feels way too good trapped between my legs to find the strength to stop. It is puzzling what reaction my body has to him even though I have never been attracted to a single man my entire live. Now just looking at the elegant curve of his bum makes my thoughts go a little fuzzy and I really have to stop me from conjuring up the image of Bills naked ass.

His skin feels so soft underneath my fingertips and tastes like heaven. I ponder which part of his body is my favorite part to kiss as I am nibbling along his long neck. But I put that decision off so that I can decide once I have kissed every inch of his body. My body is out of control again and I have long ago given up on stopping myself from rubbing myself against him. As it turns out I don’t need to either because every time I do he moans in a very addictive way. Overall he makes the cutest little noises which tell me exactly what he wants and likes.

It is no secret that I am huge admirer of women’s breasts. I explore Bills flat chest tenderly and surprise myself at how horny I get by feeling his nipples in my mouth, hard nubs in reaction to my tongue. I myself am not very sensitive in that area but I can tell that Bill is. I bite down cautiously on those nubs and he almost jumps off my lap.

“You wanna go to bed?” I whisper in the perfect shell of his ear and hear him take a deep breath.

I don’t want to push him and just continue to give his earlobe some attention. He doesn’t say anything for quite a while until I suck his earlobe into my mouth and he groans an almost inaudible “God yes!”

It is difficult to stop to get up and go to the bedroom but I do and leave the sofa looking down on a blushed Bill with tousled hair and feverish glistening eyes. I feel a little bit embarrassed about the bulge in my trousers but there is no way I can hide the effect he has on me. My hands shake slightly on my way to the bedroom, overcome with last minute nerves. This situation is very special and important not just because Bill is my soulmate, we are brothers who shouldn’t be doing this in the first place but also because of the rape he experienced not too long ago.

He has told me several times that my touches are not terrifying to him but I still wonder what he will feel when we become more intimate. I am afraid that the bad memories come back and haunt him as soon as I touch him somewhere else than above the waistline.

“Baby…” I turn around and hug him tightly, to show him support or to calm myself I don’t know. He feels so fragile in my arms and I burry my head on his shoulder.

We stand like this for a while, listening to each other’s breathing and steady heartbeat, drunk by all the sensations. I look him in the eyes and the confirmation in those depths gives me the courage to unbutton his jeans and help him out of them. Now he just wears some simple white Hugo Boss boxers, which outline things more than they hide. I touch him right at the spot where the fabric is already damp and clinging to his body. He moans my name and that is all I need to know that I am doing the right thing. I have never touched another man but that becomes irrelevant as I touch my soulmate in the most intimate ways. He is hard in my hands and sweat has gatherd on his forehead. 

I want this, I want him so badly that my whole body aches. 

I turn my back on Bill for a couple of seconds. I drag down my own jeans hastily, step out of them and kick them away. When I turn around again clad in a blue shirt and black boxers I am surprised that Bill is not standing in the middle of the room anymore. My eyes wander through the room, across the scattered Cd’s on the floor and accessories on his desk to the broad king size bed with the silky grey linen. There I can see the blond strands of his hair sticking out under the blanket even if the rest of my brother his hidden away.

I step forward and almost stumble on some empty bottles on the floor. Bill needs really to clean out his room; it is becoming ridiculous he is not a teenager anymore. I sigh and lift the blanket to climb into the warm cave he has created. The light from the room is only partially filtrating through the linen and I see the outlines of his body but not the expression on his face. I scoot closer until my body collides with the warmth of Bills.

In the matter of seconds I have my arms full of little brother and I hug his slim frame tightly. He has pressed his face into the nape of my neck and I feel his breathe on my skin. Goosebumps erupt all over my body and I close my eyes for a second to enjoy having him close. I slowly rub circles on his back because I feel the tension in his body. Something is off and I give him time to tell me what is going on.

“Tomi,” he whispers hoarsely and I kiss his cheeks softly. “I want to be with you so badly, but I am scared.”

“Are you scared of the memories?” I ask him and try to get some distance between our bodies so that I can look into his eyes. But he doesn’t let me and stays wrapped around me like a little monkey. He nods and sniffles a little.

“Maybe we should take this much slower? One step at the time, to make sure you are comfortable and feel safe. Did the memories trouble you when I touched you down there?” I blush at my blunt question. Even though we just made out I haven’t gotten the hang of dirty talking to brother yet.

“Yes, I don’t know what happened, everything was fine before.”

To me this makes more than sense, it would have been a miracle if he just would have been able to forget that monster and what he did to him.

“Then we just stay here together, cuddle and kiss. There is no need to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, not now not ever!”


	10. Chapter 10

Last night Bill and I cuddled and kissed until he finally drifted off to dreamland, tightly wrapped around my body. Once again I surprise myself at how comfortable I am sleeping like this, so close that I can feel his warm breath on my skin. I used to get mad at my previous girlfriends when they occupied my private space like that; I have never been a cuddler. Bill has always been the exception of that rule; with him I crave this absolute closeness.

I wonder if I feel so comfortable sleeping like this because we did this for nine months in our mother’s womb. There is an ultrasound picture of us, two tiny babies, one of us having the arm protectively wrapped around the other. Of course we don’t know who is Bill and who I am on that picture but I have the distinctive feeling that Bill is the smaller one snuggling in my arms. Our mother gave us that picture several years ago on our 15th birthday. I remember it was such a hectic period in our lives and I often felt that Bill and I were drifting apart. He behaved strangely at times, getting diva like outbursts for no reason apparent to me and I was avoiding him sometimes just because I had been so exhausted from all the drama.

Now I understand that it must have been the time when Bill realized that his feelings for me were not exactly brotherly and it must have hurt him to be close to me but yet no close enough while I fucked everything that had breasts. Maybe our mother felt that something was off between us because she framed that ultrasound picture and gave it to us as a constant reminder that whatever happens we would always have each other. I remember how I wished to go back in time, imagining the warmth and the love I must have felt holding my little brother close. I think it was that picture that made me rethink the way I was behaving towards Bill, the avoiding and constant bickering. It made me realize that I have not the luxury anymore of having my arms around him, knowing he is safe and close by my side because outside in this world we could so easily be torn apart.

We never talked about it but I really started to change and listen to what he was thinking. Instead of partying every night off I finally stayed in some nights reconnecting with my brother just doing the things we have always done like playing video games or watching a movie. I remember these times fondly and I am very thankful for the role my mother played in changing my attitude.

I look down at my hands that have automatically stopped chopping the banana I was about to prepare for breakfast. With the knife frozen in midair I am lost in my thoughts. I gaze over to the kitchen table and asses the job I have done so far: fresh rolls, butter, marmalade and Bills beloved Nutella are arranged alongside with different fruits and cheese. I have put all the different cereals we got on the table just in case Bill has a hankering for cereals. Four plates with red napkins and black coffee cups with white text saying “Tokio Hotel” complete the breakfast table. 

Georg and Gustav are coming over to bring the dogs’ home and honestly I can’t wait. It feels so empty without them here and I know that Bills is dying to see Pumba.  
The doorbell chimes and I welcome the G’s in who immediately step inside. They are almost run over by two very excited dogs that are barking and jumping around, well my boy is jumping, Pumba is actually too fat to do much jumping but he is excitedly moving in circles around my legs. I pet them both and can’t resist and cuddle Pumba a little extra knowing that this little dog brings so much joy to my Bill. He really is a gift from God.

Bill has apparently woken up from all the commotion and he appears in the hallway rubbing his eyes and yawning. He doesn’t wear anything besides the white boxers and his hair is tousled. Actually he looks like he just had a heavy make out session with someone, which he had because I accidently woke him up in the early hours of dawn because I had to go to the bathroom. Instead of going back to sleep we spend precious minutes kissing.

I briefly wonder if it bothers him finding the G’s sitting at our kitchen table while he is not wearing nearly enough clothes but if so he doesn’t show it. It is not like we haven’t seen each other in various states of nakedness, something that comes with the tour life and living in tiny spaces together like the tour bus. Bills ass clad in boxer shorts has even been on Tokio Hotel TV which makes the pang of jealousy I am feeling even more irrational. I think I just might lose my temper if Bill is going to hug Gustav like that but he doesn’t, instead he kneels on the floor taking an excited Pumba onto his lap. Pumba isn’t a small puppy anymore, a fact that both Pumba and Bill try to ignore. Right now they both seem to be in heaven, I haven’t seen such a wide smile on Bill since the kidnapping. Pumba is licking his face and he giggles softly, clearly enjoying the doggy love from his little baby boy.

Gustav looks fondly down at his best friend, clearly relieved to see him smile. Georg has focused his attention already on the food, as always when there is food around. You wouldn’t guess it by looking at his slim figure but Georg loves to eat. Right now his face almost disappears in a bowl that overflows with cereals and milk. A warm feeling spreads inside of me as I look down at the people and dogs that are my family. I am thankful for each and every one of them; it just pains me a little that I from now on have to keep a secret from them.

The sizzling and steaming coffee machine is dragging me back to reality and I have to focus on getting the coffees ready for our guests and ourselves. I pick up the cups from the table and smile as my eyes are caught by our band logo.

“Bill aren’t you cold on the floor like this?” I peek over my shoulder and keep my voice casual.

The smell of coffee fills my nose and I inhale deeply. The first cup of coffee and the first cigarette are the best thing to start a day. No that’s not right the best thing to start my day is kisses from Bill. My stomach flutters involuntarily as I recall the warmth of his mouth and I have to focus back on the coffees before I spill too much on the kitchen counter. Small droplets of coffee are already spread on the floor; apparently I haven’t got a very steady hand these days.

I hear Bill mumble something but can’t hear what he says because of the roaring coffee machine. These things can really awake the dead with their steaming, roaring and sizzling. Sounds like one of those old trains run by steam.I didn’t hear what he said but Bill is abandoning his spot on the floor and goes back to his room, hopefully to put some clothes on, followed by an eager dog demanding more attention.

“You are a bit overprotective, aren’t you? Gustav remarks with his mouth full of fresh roll. Crumbles are scattered on his black shirt and I just have to shake my head at his disgusting eating habits.

“Can you please close your mouth while eating?” I retort, ignoring his comment and finding a way to tell him to shut up.

I sit down besides Georg and take a sip from the hot coffee hoping that we can leave the topic of my protectiveness. Of course the G’s don’t do me that favor and start to laugh at my protective side. They have teased me for this on and off for years. One part of me knows that they are right, that I can get overly protective when it comes to my little brother. But on the other hand I feel they don’t have the right to judge me after what he have been trough.

I feel a little bit sad at their lack of understanding regarding my and Bills relationship. It never bothered me that they made fun of us before but it feels even more wrong now after I almost lost him. Instead of laughing and joking things away I try to be honest with my best friends. It is the first time I actually have made the effort to let them look behind the protectiveness and “big brother mode” as they call it.

“I almost lost him. Don’t you see that he is the most precious thing for me existing on this world?” I am sincere; this is not a laughing matter anymore.

Georg puts down his spoon, leaving puddles of milk on the table. Gustav stops eating and brushes off some of the crumbs that are all over him.

“Sorry man, we didn’t mean it like that. We were just joking around.”

I lift my gaze and my eyes connect with similar ones just a few steps away. By the tender look on his face I am guessing that Bill heard what I just said. In mere seconds he closes the distance between us and I look up at this beautiful man who is my brother. He leans forward and puts a soft kiss on my temple and I can’t do anything but enjoy the feeling of his lips on my skin and his scent lingering in my nose. The moment is over in a split second and he moves away again, taking a seat between me and Gustav. It almost physically pains me to not be able to drag him onto my lap and kiss him senseless. But I can already see the G’s exchanging meaningful glances over their cups. They are probably thrown a little of track since I am not known for deep conversations about feelings or displaying affection publically.

“Well just don’t let Ria hear that, I guess she wants to be the most precious thing to you.” 

Gustav laughs smugly, the bitch war between Bill and Ria has entertained the G’s for years.  
I take a bite of a roll and before I can answer Bill does it for me.

“Eww Gustav, they broke up!” He weaves his hands like he is trying to chase away a very annoying fly. Gustav looks surprised, with his eyebrows questioningly raised.

“Is that true?” he asks and I nod still chewing, thankful for not having to answer.

“Oh then I am sorry to hear that,” Gustav says and Georg looks like he wants to say something but decides against it.

“I am certainly not,” Bill says with a snort and some much disgust paired with diva attitude that we all have to snicker. Diva Bill is certainly entertaining and absolutely adorable as well.

After that the breakfast proceeds on like every other breakfast we had together during all those years we have known each other. Gustav continued to get crumbs all over him, Georg stuffed his face with both cereals and fresh rolls, and Bill sipped delicately on his coffee focused more on talking than eating. I may just be the only one of us that doesn’t behave like I usually do during breakfast. I am still the quiet one, just because I am not really a morning person. So usually I sit quiet and moody, shooting angry glances at people around me for being annoying and talkative. Today is different, somehow the moodiness I usually experience in the morning never occurred and I am happy since I woke up and started to prepare breakfast. I sit silent watching the others chat and laugh, playing with the dogs and just being around each other like we have been for almost a decade.

The normalcy of that picture is soothing and for the first time the tension leaves my body that I have felt since Bill returned battered and bruised, wounded on soul and body. This picture gives me hope that in time we can continue on making our music, playing concerts and that Bill will have the strength to get over the horrible things he experienced.

I watch his face change in a thousand familiar shades and I can’t stop looking at him like I have been hypnotized. There is a big chance that I never will let him out of my sight ever again. There is still so much I don’t know about him, things that I am not supposed to know but that I still crave. I want to know the way the expression of his face changes when he is aroused. I want to know what he tastes like in all those hidden precious body parts of his. I want to know what kind of person he is as a lover, not just a brother, bandmate and friend. Is he jealous, will he get angry when I look at women? Does he like grand romantic gestures or intimate whispered words of everlasting love? I am keen on getting to know him all the way, with nothing hidden away and unreachable.

His knees brush against mine under the table and my adventure into the crazy paths of my thoughts is stopped by the very real longing for closeness. I try to think of a way to tell the G’s to leave when Bill once again reads my mind and takes care of things for me.

He slumps over a bit, hunching his shoulders like he is exhausted and widens his eyes to get a look that resembles the one Pumba gets when he needs attention. No one that ever received that look from either one of them has been able to deny whatever they wished for. Not even our mother.

“Guys, thank you for bringing the dogs over and staying for breakfast. Are you going to be mad at me if I go back to my room, I am just so exhausted and my body still aches from the wounds?” Now he looks like the weight of the world is on his shoulders and I would feel sorry for him but I know that all of this is an act.

The G’s almost stumble onto their feet to give Bill some privacy. There is a lot of hugging and Smalltalk until they are finally out of the door.

Bill is standing by the door, waving them off and I approach him on silent feet.

“Sooooo you say your body is aching? Wanna show me where?” I whisper in the perfect shell of his ear and my voice sounds hoarse, like I have been screaming for hours. But somehow his presence has these effects on me.

I drag him closer by the waistline of his jeans and my eyes meet his which are bright like a fire is burning in their depths. He leans forward and whispers all the places where his body is aching and needs attention into my ear. By the time he is done my face looks like one of those deep red Italian tomatoes.


	11. Chapter 11

You would think that after such a traumatic experience it would be nearly impossible to find your way back into some kind of normalcy but the truth is that we have been home for a few days now and Bill is doing really well. He is haunted by nightmares now and again and I try to soothe the pain away. Since the incident the other day I haven’t tried to touch Bill more intimately mostly because I want to give him all the time he needs. It has to be him who takes initiative for those kinds of things because I don’t know when he will be ready. Maybe it will take weeks or even months until he feels strong enough to face those demons.

Even though I know all of this and I don’t want to push him into anything it becomes increasingly painful to stop our intense making out sessions, both mentally and physically. I have taken countless cold showers during the last couple of days and sometimes it is just easier for me to not sit cuddled up with him on the sofa but on the chair by myself, just because nowadays as little as the pressure of his body against mine makes my body react in very specific ways.

I am looking out in the darkness but I can only see the shadowy outlines of the trees and bushes, I am mostly looking at my reflection, brown accusing eyes staring back at me. I honestly feel bad about the way I am behaving and my body is reacting. My little brother has been through so much but instead of being supportive I constantly think of ways of seducing him. Images of him naked flash my mind every couple of hours in the most inappropriate situations. But my body doesn’t have any manners and I have no control over my reactions anymore.

I have to fight to keep those thoughts at bay but it becomes more difficult every night when his warm body is pressed flush against mine. I have already considered asking him if it is ok that I stay in my own room at night to cool off but I decided against it. It would be unfair if I had to make him suffer because I can’t control myself.

The tapping sound of naked feet against the floor approaches me followed by the familiar sweet but masculine scent of my brother. He is standing right behind me and our eyes meet for a brief second in the reflecting glass window. Bill sneaks a cold hand under my t-shirt and I take a deep breath when he touches my warm skin. The sensation of his soft and slightly cold fingertips on my bare skin makes me shiver and I close my eyes in pleasure. 

The muffled sounds of a regular evening reach my ears through the window: a dog barking excitedly, cars pulling up into nearby driveways and the faint voice of a woman probably calling her kid in for dinner. I think of all of those families out there embracing the evening and spending quality time together. It is a peaceful and calming thought knowing that there is so much happy undisturbed life around us. Here we are in its middle, but still far away from this kind of normalcy. I usually push the negative thoughts into the back of my mind but right now I have trouble keeping the happy cheerfulness up that I have faked the last couple of days for Bills sake. I wished that this would be easy and Bill would heal properly but today it feels like we are somehow to broken to fit into the normalcy around us.

Sometimes I just forget how delicate and unstable our situation is but right now I am staring at my reflection in the window asking myself if I really consider it normal thinking about having sex with my brother who has been raped just a week ago. It hits me that nothing of this is fair to either of us; it isn’t fair that we never had a chance at a normal life because we were destined to be with each other; it isn’t fair that I love him so fiercely that just looking at him takes my breath away and that I want to make him mine in every possible way but can’t because he experienced such a horrific trauma.

His fingers have wandered upwards and are slowly stroking alongside my spine. I try not to focus on the warmth radiating from his body right behind me or his tender fingers and just enjoy the precious moment. But all too soon my body demands attention and I sigh heavily, too exhausted to fight it off and pretend I wasn’t aroused. 

“You are so tense and so troubled,” Bill mumbles into my neck, hot bursts of air hitting the sensitive skin. He bites lovingly into my earlobe and I zone out for a moment of bliss.  
His hand has kept a steady pace exploring my upper body and reaches my bare stomach. The muscles there contract immediately and I groan involuntarily and sweat trickles down my back despite the fact that it is not very warm in the room. I make a movement to grab his hand but he foresees it and hushes me softly.

“Shhh if you just would let me take care of you…It’ll make things easier for you.”

I have trouble concentrating on his words because his hands are now far under my waistline and I just stare at his nibbling fingers unbuttoning my jeans. I know that I need to stop him but right now I feel like trapped in jelly, every movement takes too much energy. In no time he has his slender hands around my hardened length and I almost slump forward hit by the explosion of feelings inside of me.

“Bill…stop…you can’t do that”, I whisper weakly and instead of answering my protest he starts stroking me lightly. I am swollen and the friction of the fabric against my sensitive skin drives me almost crazy.

A damp spot is already visible on the grey material and for a second I feel embarrassed at how little it takes for me to unravel in his hands. I rub myself against his hands highly aware of the fact that I should stop this but too far gone to do anything about it.

“Mmmm you need this so so much…” he whispers hoarsely and I can just nod in agreement as he drags down my boxers entirely. There I am clad with nothing but a shirt, eager and pulsating longing for more.

“No Bill…the memories maybe come back,” I squeeze out with an unnatural high voice because he refocused his attention on the problematic area between my legs. He just kneels down in front of me smiling and shaking his head.

I want to caution him once more but the thoughts drown in the firework of sensations running through my whole body as he puts his mouth around my leaking penis. For a while I am paralyzed, not able to move a single muscle while he explores my most intimate parts with his skilled tongue. I look down at him which proves to be a mistake because he looks so ungodly hot with his mouth around me that I am sure parts of my brain just got fried. I push forward craving more of the warm hotness of his mouth and he immediately sucks me deeper and harder. I have long ago passed the point of no return and all I can do is try to not lose the last ounce of control. The moment he tenderly bites down at the sensitive red and swollen head of my penis I see stars and can’t even warn him when the hardest orgasm hits me that I ever had. But he doesn’t seem to mind, smiling up at me while he licks the last droplets of pure bliss off me.

I have to brace myself with a hand against the wall, impossible to stand upright on my own. My own heavy breathing rings in my ears. Bill has gotten up from the floor and hugs me tightly his face pressed against mine. I capture his lips between mine and allow his tongue entrance into my mouth. He tastes like Bill but also like me and I find it surprisingly enough sexy.

“You taste really good,” he says cheekily, sucking at my neck probably leaving an immense hickey.

“Are you ok?” I ask worriedly as soon as I catch my breath. My eyes wander over his beautiful face, glistening eyes and flushed cheeks. He doesn’t seem sad or terrified.

“I am,” he says, poking me on my nose, “this has nothing to do with what happened last week. The monster never…you know took the time for that sort of thing. He just took my body and used me.” Bill looks down momentarily but takes a deep breath and meets my eyes with a smile.

“This is just for you and me,” he adds and I flush a bright red at the intimacy of that statement. 

He flashes me one last bright smile before he walks into the kitchen leaving me slightly confused but happy. The troubling thoughts that haunted me for days are gone now and my body feels heavy. I almost stumble over to our wonderfully soft sofa and sigh contently as I let myself slide down onto some silky cushions. I try to keep my eyes open and think about what just happened but I can’t seem to focus. Bill rummaging through the kitchen humming happily is like a lullaby and I close my eyes. Even though there is probably a thousand reasons why what we just did was wrong I just can’t think of a single one of them when I feel that happy, the taste of my soulmates kisses still lingering inside my mouth.

I suppose none of this would make sense to an outside observer however for me it does. We make sense even if the world doesn’t want us to. Bill is the only thing that makes sense to me in this entire universe and his love is such a precious gift. I hear his voice muffled as he walks through the apartment on silent feet, it seems that he is talking to someone on the phone. Seconds later he comes back to the living room, tossing the phone on the table.

“I ordered take out, indian curry this time,” he announces and I can feel the sofa shift under his weight knowing that he now sits right beside me. 

My eyes are still closed and I do not try to open them because the image of his beautiful face is always imprinted on my retina. He snuggles closer and I open my arms to pull him into a hug. He rests his head on my chest and yet again I am astonished how easily his body melts into mine. We were made to fit together, like the two pieces of a puzzle. I once read in a magazine that there is this theory by a philosopher whose name I can’t remember, that our souls originally stuck together with another soul. But due to certain events these soul unities got split and now every human born instinctively searches for the other part of their soul, the part that should have been there in the first place. I am not very romantic but I like that thought.

“I love you!” I whisper into his tousled hair that smells like strawberries and the short strands tickle my nose. I would like to stay in this paradise made of love, affection and calm. But the universe isn’t on my side and Bills phone starts ringing.

I roll my eyes at the annoying Britney Spears ringtone. In some areas you would never guess that we are twins. I am forced to open my eyes because Bill almost falls down in his efforts to reach the abandoned phone on the table without actually getting up. I smirk at his funny movements because the laziness is something we very much have in common.

“Hi, its Bill,” he answers and the expression on his face changes as he listens to the person on the other end of the line. He hums in agreement now and again but otherwise listens silently looking serious. He fidgets with the ham of his shirt, folding it and unfolding it again and again. To me it looks like he has become pale and I squeeze his thigh supportively even though I can’t hear what’s being said.

“Yes, I’ll be there”, Bill says courtly and ends the phone call. By now I am back in a seated position, raising an eyebrow questioningly as he bends over and hides his face in his hands.

“What is going on, baby?” I ask and try to take his hands away from his face. He looks finally up at me with tears glisten in his eyes and pale skin.

“They found him. He is arrested,” Bill whispers; the words leaving his mouth and the tears leaving his eyes, streaming down his cheeks.

“Thank God!” Pure relief washes through me followed from the deepest darkest hatred I have ever felt. Up until now this man was a nameless and faceless monster but now he sits locked up at the police station and I want to go down there torture him slowly before I murder him brutally.

“I have to go down there to identify him. They have proof that it is him because of the DNA they found…on my body. But they say it makes a better case if they also have me identifying him.”

Bill looks exhausted, terrified and way too fragile to bear such a weight on his shoulders. I put his favorite blanket around him which is fuzzy on one side and soft cotton with printed stars on the other. I pull him back into my embrace and hug his slender frame tightly.

“We’ll do it together; I’ll be with you all the way!”

I try to not let my rage shine through because Bill needs support now which doesn’t mean that I won’t look for an opportunity to punch this man until he is doesn’t breath anymore.


	12. Chapter 12

The afternoon continued without any more important news. We ordered take out from an Indian restaurant around the corner which serves the most delicious Dal with fresh oven warm Naan bread. It was a calm evening but you could almost touch the tension surrounding Bill. He didn’t sit still for more than a couple of minutes at a time, pacing between the living room and his bedroom. He changed the channels on the TV a thousand times but left me alone on the sofa eventually. This reminded me so much of the time when we were little kids and he had such a hard time sitting still when it was story time.

Truth to be told Bill didn’t enjoy story time in the evenings very much. It meant he had to lie still on the bed and listen to our mother reading. Often he got lost in the stream of words as he described it to me and afterwards he had no idea what the story was about. Or he got distracted while watching me making funny faces (which I did not) while listening. I never had a problem understanding the story or laying still. But to Bill it always felt like a thousand ants were running through his body, tickling him with their tiny feet. In the end he couldn’t stand it anymore and had to move around, fidget with his stuffed animals or bounce his feet. He never complained though that he didn’t want to hear a story because he was afraid that our mother would stop reading them if he did. That would be utterly unfair he believed because he knew how much I loved them. Our mother never noticed anything because she was used to Bill constantly moving, his body never completely still. 

After our mother kissed us good night and left the room I would lie beside him telling him what the story was all about. When I told him the story Bill had no hard time to listen, probably because I never used words he didn’t understand. He often told me that with me by his side the urge to move around wasn’t that strong so he could finally focus on the story. That way he always knew what the story we were currently reading was about in case our mother asked questions about it which she did sometimes to check if we had understood everything she read to us the previous night.

Back then I would have never guessed that he’d become such a magician with words. I think in time he learned to concentrate and fight the distractions and the urge to have is body in constant movement. When he is stressed these old habits surface again and I was very thankful that the G’s came by later yesterday evening to play some games and just spend time with us. Otherwise he might just have begun cleaning out his messy room and everyone knows that something serious is going on when Bill is tidying up his things.

Our evening walk with the dogs was quieter than usual. Bill seemed preoccupied with dreading today’s meeting at the police station and I hadn’t the heart to tell him that he should calm down because I can only imagine what horror it must be knowing that he is going to meet the man that did all those terrible things to him, even though he is just identifying him through a two sided glass mirror.

I am going to make sure that Bill doesn’t go near this man ever again. He knows that I am going to protect him I whispered that in his ear over and over again last night when his strength faltered and the tears came. It is everything that I can do but I wish I would have been able to protect him in the first place. 

I am sometimes amazed at the amount of trust, love and faith Bill has in me. I try to be as supportive as I can but it doesn’t take away the guilt for not protecting him when he needed it the most. Tonight I watched him sleeping, his features mostly calm. Now and again he furrowed his brows but as soon as I got ready to help him out of a nightmare the serious expression on his face was replaced with a smile. When he smiles like that, shy and almost bashful the butterflies in my stomach dance and I hope it is me he is dreaming of.

This morning Bill doesn’t look well, his skin is pale and he has dark circles under his eyes even though I know for a fact that he slept undisturbed almost all night. He just moves the French toast we are having for breakfast around his plate, picking a piece of toast up with his fork just to lay it down again before it reaches his mouth. Bill is clad in skinny black jeans and one of my oversized sweatshirts. The garment makes him look even thinner than he actually is but I guess he feels comfortable like that. I absent mindedly read the text on the grey sweatshirt while I am eating but pause with the fork halfway to my mouth.

“Isn’t that the shirt I wore yesterday?” I asked surprised and point at Bills clothes with a raised eyebrow. I don’t mind him borrowing things from me but he could have asked for a clean one.

“Maybe,” he answers but doesn’t look me in the eyes instead he continues staring down at his untouched food. As I look at him a blush creeps from his neck to his cheeks until they are slightly pink.

“You could have asked for a clean one Bill,” I point out the obvious and shake my head. It surprised me that Bill would wear a day old shirt, because he pays so much attention to his outfit on any other day. I put a finger under his chin and lift his head to meet his eyes as it becomes obvious that he is not going to look at me on his own.

“It smells like you. It makes me feel save,” he whispers almost inaudible. The blush on his cheeks deepens and I can tell how embarrassed he is by saying that. I can’t resist and touch his wonderfully soft lips tenderly with my thumb. His answer makes me want to kiss him passionately but I can tell that right now is not the time; he is far too scared of what might happen at the police station.

“I took it from your chair because at the station when I get scared and sad you probably can’t hug me or hold me. So I need to be brave!” He sighs and our eyes meet in the sad understanding of the limitations we have to face when it comes to expressing our feelings in public.

To be perfectly honest I haven’t given the fact a thought that I won’t be able to comfort Bill at the police station. We have been so wrapped up in our bubble that it didn’t even occur to me that I can’t hug and kiss him if he gets scared or sad. It is frightening to know that I have to rely simply on words and brotherly gestures to comfort Bill. I have never been the one who does very well in serious situations, they freak me out because I am often at a loss at what to say or do. The last couple of days I relied so much on Bills need of closeness, always knowing that cuddles and kisses would calm him. Now that I won’t have those options I am afraid that I can’t give him the support he needs.

The G’s asked yesterday if we need a ride and company at the station but Bill turned them down. So I will be his only source of comfort, which means I have to control my own emotions and weaknesses to be as supportive and empathic as I can be.

Bill looks sad again and I don’t push him to talk to me. He hasn’t eaten more than a few bites when he puts the plate into the sink and looks out the kitchen window that overlooks our small garden. We haven’t put much effort into planting flowers or vegetables instead we kept the garden simple with a few trees and grass to provide as much space as possible for our dogs to play. It is a grey day, the sun blocked behind heavy clouds. The garden looks forlorn like that, lonely and Bill shivers at the sight. It is probably going to be one of those few days when even LA is chilly and rainy. It doesn’t happen all too much (which is one of the reasons why we moved here) but still there is no place on earth where the sun shines every day. In a way it mirrors the unpleasant events that lie ahead of us this morning. 

Bill has started to clean his plate with fast almost furious movements and I wonder what is going through his mind right now. Is he scared, angry, sad or all of the above? For a while there is nothing to be heard but Bills scrubbing and the splashing of water.  
Bill gets interrupted by a little fat dog, walking in on tiny feet and wiggling his tail expectantly. Pumba knows exactly that we keep his dog treats in one of the kitchen cabinets and he surely thinks it is time to get one of his favorites.

“Pumba you know you can’t get any treats today, the doc said it’s not good for your heart if you get any bigger.” Bill scolded looking down at the pudgy dog which is more like a baby to him than a pet. Pumba answers the look with one of his sad expressions and adorable “but don’t you love me anymore?” face.

Bill sighs and looks back and forth between the cabinet and his dog clearly struggling with denying Pumba his treats.

“Oh what the hell!” he exclaims throwing his arms in the air before getting some of Pumbas treats, kneeling down on the floor to give it to Pumba who excitedly jumps around his favorite human who once again fell for his puppy eyes.

“Why can’t I resist him?” He shakes his head desperately and I chuckle at the sight.

“Well then you know how I feel everytime you beg me do watch a romantic movie or make me carry your bags filled with shoes”, I abandon my chair on the table to lean forward and put a delicate kiss on his forehead, relishing the small smile that dances on his lips in response to what I said. 

He already knows that I can’t deny him anything; one look of these brown doe eyes and my willpower disappears like snowflakes melting on warm skin. My heartbeat increases as I look down at the love of my life and our dog and realize that this is my family. I couldn’t be more grateful and mourn the years lost due to my own stupidity and thick-headedness. There he was the love of my life by my side all this time and I didn’t see it because I was blinded by the way things were supposed to be instead of facing the reality I lived in and my true feelings.

”Time to go?” I ask him, knowing fully well that we already running a little late and are supposed to be down by the police station in a couple of minutes. But they can’t start without Bill anyways and I am not going to rush him. His chest rises in a deep breath and our eyes connect for a moment before he nods carefully and gets up from his position on the floor.

Pumba barks in protest because Bill stops petting his head but stops it as soon as Bill turns his back on him and moves out of sight. With a sound much like a huff Pumba trots slowly to his cushion in the other corner of the room. I follow Bill out into the hallway, putting my sneakers on hastily because Bill is already waiting by the door one hand impatiently on the handle. I take the car keys from a blue bowl on a small side table and join Bill at the door, waiting for him to open it. I don’t know why he hesitates until I can see him put his fake smile on, the one he reserves for media and staff. Everyone is concerned about him but I guess that he doesn’t want to display his vulnerability.

As soon as we close the wooden door with a thud behind us and cross the garden several members of our security entourage step out from the small booth at the end of our driveway. I squint a little in an effort to recognize their faces and shame nestles in my stomach as I see that one of them has a band aid on his nose. I almost forgot about the incident and am ashamed of myself for treating that poor man that way. They all flock around us as soon as we reach them, happily greeting Bill and asking him how he is doing. He is dearly loved by each and every one of them while I have a more distant and professional relationship to our staff.

“Mark,” he shakes the broad hand of the new guard with a smile. “What happened to your nose?” he immediately asks with concern coloring his voice and a serious expression on his features.

Mark, as I just learned, looks uncertain from me to Bill and back to me clearly uncomfortable with ratting me out to my own brother. I spare him the embarrassment and explain in a few words how it came that I punched one of our guards in the face. Remorse crept up upon me like a snake and I actually feel awful for not even apologizing for it.

“Tom!” Bill exclaims horrified and takes a step back from me. He shakes his head in disbelief over my violent side. I know that he hates any kind of violence and cruelty, with his accusing eyes on me my stomach churns in dread. 

“It’s ok Mr. Bill, it doesn’t hurt so much and Mr. Tom was under a lot of pressure.” Mark smiles at me cautiously, nodding to emphasize his words.

Bill takes the guards hands once more in his own inquiring whether Mark went to a hospital and got an x-ray and proper medication, which he had. 

After a while he feels satisfied with the answers and I get to chip in to finally give the apology I should have given days ago. Our guard forgives me with an honest smile and I am baffled at the kindness Mark is showing me. He really has no reason to just forgive me without any hesitation. As I think about it I could have been in real trouble after all I am this man’s employer, certainly not a position where it is forgivable to punch someone.  
I point out that we need to get going and receive a glare from my brother. Clearly he doesn’t forgive as easily as Mark did, I am sure I am about to get a lecture on the ride to the police station.   
Because it’s just a short ride we ask our security to stay at the house and have an eye on our property and Pumba. It is not a secret that all the guards love that little dog and they regularly play a card game over who gets to walk him when we are not around or busy.  
Some more Smalltalk is made until we finally arrive at our car and I open the car door for Bill who just shoots me an angry glare before getting inside. I round the car and as soon as I step inside and close the door Bill turns around and faces me with an outraged expression.

“Tom! How could you?! That poor guy!” He throws his arms in the air in a frustrated gesture and once again shakes his head furiously. He fasten his seatbelt almost violently before he goes back to glaring daggers at me.

“Bill, I was scared out of my mind. I thought I would never see you again.” I’ll try to explain why it even had come to that situation but Bill just huffs in response. I ignite the car and grip the steering wheel tightly. 

I feel bad for punching our security guard but I can’t make it undone. The angry and disappointed look in Bills eyes makes my heart clench and sadness sweeps over me like a wave. I thought Bill would understand why I reacted the way I did but I guess he does not and would have dealt with the situation better. We start driving slowly down our driveway, wave at the security at the booth and pull up into the empty street. It is a calm neighborhood we are living in and at this time of day there are not many people around. The kids have already been taken to school and the parents gone to work. As we drive down the street all I see are some abandoned toys on the neatly mowed lawns.

“There was just so much pain. I couldn’t feel anything but pain that’s why I wanted to hurt myself and everyone around me. You weren’t there and it felt like my insides were ripped apart.”

I try to explain the feeling to Bill but truthfully I will never be able to express in words the amount of pain and horror I felt that day. I glance over to him but he has turned to face the window with a distant expression on his face. He is very angry at me I can read the signs, have seen them a thousand times; his way of not meeting my eyes and generally ignoring my existence alongside with the disappointed huffs. Even though Bill has been angry at me countless times for serious and silly reasons it is the first time he as angry at me since we became lovers or boyfriends whatever we want to call our relationship.

I am at loss how to deal with the situation, as his brother I would just have told him to suck it up because he isn’t a saint either and I hate this judgmental side of his. Bill has very high standards and expectations for himself but also for everyone around him. He doesn’t answer me and keeps staring out of the window no matter how many times I look over at him or touch his knee gently. When he gets like that there is not much you can do but let him ride the wave of anger and disappointment eventually he will come around. I make a turn right and the police station appears in front of us, a big grey concrete building with rows and rows of parked cars in front of it. I have to circle around the whole area a couple of times until I find a parking space that fits our rather big car. After I killed the engine and have taken off my seatbelt I sit for a few seconds, hesitant to leave the car because it just doesn’t feel right going inside with things between Bill and me unsettled.

“Look Bill, I am sorry to disappoint you but I never said I was perfect. You know me better than anyone with all my weaknesses. I am no superhero; I am possessive, jealous, and choleric. I make inappropriate jokes in serious situations and can be generally annoying. I never promised you anything other than that. What you see is what you get and I am sorry if that isn’t enough for you.”

I have to stop my monologue because of the heart crushing pain that makes it hard for me to breath. It is the pain of my heart breaking in the thick silence that follows. I am not a cryer, never have been but right now it feels like I am at the verge of tears. I fight them down as the silence stretches and I open the car door because I realize that he will just keep on ignoring me, it’s what he does. This behavior is not new, he has been like that since we were children but I am surprised by the hurt it causes me. Bill hates conflicts and he rather ignores a person than making a scene and fight. I am obviously the exact opposite and Bills way of dealing with things makes me frustrated.

I wait for him to join me but he just walks by me with long strides of his lanky legs, not pausing or looking back if I follow him up the stairs to the main entrance. For a moment I look at him, his shoulders hunched in the big sweatshirt, his hair messy but still stylish and his hands in the pockets of his black jeans. I wonder if I will be enough for him, not just now but in general or he is eventually going to long for someone better who meets his high expectations.


	13. Chapter 13

As soon as we enter the building the contrast between the silent parking lot and the noisy interior hits me. I look curiously around, forgetting for a moment about the fight with Bill and my anxiety. I have never been at an American police station and my picture of it is colored by countless bad crime shows on TV. The thing that strikes me in comparison to German police stations is that this one is busy, with people in uniform moving hastily between the rows of desks holding folders in their hands or phones pressed to their ears.

Somewhere in the room a copy machine is roaring almost drowning the hushed conversations between police officers and civilians. Bill has already approached what seems to be the front desk and talks to a young female officer with blond hair tied back into a neat knot and freckles sprinkled on her cheeks. She smiles in response to Bills explanation which I can’t hear because I am still three steps behind him looking at the scenery. Everything seems more run down as it would in a TV show but other than that it looks exactly like what I was expecting. A surreal feeling settles over me as I look around, almost like we are part of a show, a badly scripted one but still.

An elderly officer passes by with a teenager in cuffs who now and then screams insults at the man. The officer doesn’t even flinch at the dirty language and the wary and tired look in his eyes tells me that this isn’t the first time someone called him fuckface, probably not even the first time today. I look back at the front desk and see Bill sign some papers before the young officer gestures him to follow her. I hurry up to close the distance between us even though he still behaves like I am not even there. Being ignored is such an unsettling feeling and being ignored by the person you love is dreadful. I would have taken screaming, fighting and tears any day over this silent torture. The officer casts a curious glance at me but doesn’t ask any questions. By the way Bill hunches his shoulders I can tell that he is nervous and probably scared of what is to come.

We have left the busy atmosphere behind us and are on our way deeper inside the building, walking down some empty hallways with just a few officers passing by. Now and again we have to stop at a door at which the officer pushes in a code on the keypad besides the door to get it to open. The closing of the heavy metal doors behind us have a finality to it that makes me anxious and Bill is probably feeling the same way judging by the way he flinches every time he hears a door close. It is the first time since we entered the building that he glances back at me and I wonder if this reminds him of being captured in a moldy and dark basement. His eyes have lost their disappointed, hurt shine and I can see nothing in them but fear.

With a second of hesitation I put my hand on the small of his back, feeling a light tremor erupt from his body as if he is freezing. He doesn’t object so I assume it is ok for me again to touch him. I can’t tell if he is still angry but too afraid to focus on that or if he has come over it and forgiven me in light of the obstacle he has to face. I guess I’ll find out sooner or later. I am still a little pissed at his attitude but I also know that this is bigger than our bickering, even bigger than a regular fight. After some more steps into a hallway with cinnamon colored walls the officer opens a door and asks us to step inside.

I let reluctantly go of Bill but stay as near as I can without raising any suspicion. The room is furnished with a blue sofa, a table and four chairs. There is a small TV with black screen on the opposite wall, magazines scattered on a low sideboard and a second door leading somewhere else. I guess this is a waiting room and the officer explains that we are going to be picked up in a couple of minutes by another officer called Detective Jefferson who is in charge of the investigation regarding Bills abduction and the criminal psychologist who did the profile on the bastard who hurt Bill.

The female officer excuses herself and leaves hastily and I get the impression that everyone is so busy around here that they don’t even walk normal but always run down these hallways. I use the brief seconds we have by leaning forward and pressing my lips against Bills. His lips feel cold and slightly chapped an unusual sensation because they are otherwise always smooth. His nervous habit of biting his lips has surfaced again and that worries me because he only does that when he is under extreme pressure. I am afraid that he will draw back but he doesn’t and instead he closes his eyes. I look down at him; at the almost mauve colored skin underneath his eyes that displays his exhaustion and the perfect fan of long black lashes resting on it. I break the kiss that ended up being less gentle that I wanted to and more desperate.

“You are not perfect Tom,” he says locking his eyes with mine. “But you are not just enough, you are everything and you always will be my superhero. To me you are perfect. I am sorry for being an idiot, I just feel overwhelmed.” He sighs and the shimmer of unshed tears in his eyes makes my stomach churn.

I open my mouth to answer him but get cut off by the second door in the room opening. A man in a suit smiles at us and greets us friendly explaining that he is the criminal psychologist who works on Bills case. For a moment it strikes me as odd that he doesn’t tells us his name but he must be assuming that we already know.

He extends a hand and Bill hesitates briefly before shaking it. I wonder if the grey haired man registered that little pause because his eyes flicker curiously over Bills slim figure, back and forth between the both of us. With the suite and the steel rimmed glasses this man would rather fit into a lawyer’s office than a police station but I guess he doesn’t spend much time here either. Somehow he doesn’t seem like a man you would picture sitting on small rickety desks. For my mind’s eye I see him sitting in a big office behind a large mahogany table. As he gestures us to follow him inside the room he came from I recognize the authority that he emanates that only comes with years of being in charge. It’s the same way I behave when it comes to business.

We follow him inside the room and I am once more reminded of a crime show. The room is dark, with brown walls and a dark carpet. There is no furniture here, just a big window covering the wall opposite to the door overlooking yet another room. Without asking we both know that the window appears as a mirror for the people on the other side. The room on the other side is illuminated but yet empty despite five black numbers pinned to a white wall. I swallow hard and Bill does the same, taking my hand into his damp and cold one.  
I register the analytic way the psychologist looks at our entwined hands but he doesn’t comment on it. The way he looks at us, observes our every move makes me very uncomfortable and for a short while I question if it is a good idea to hold Bills hands. But he has such a tight grip on my hand that it probably would raise more questions if I suddenly just would break free.

The door opens again and an officer enters the room. He introduces himself as detective Jefferson. He seems friendly, middle-aged with a round belly and almost no hair. The both of them ask Bill a couple of questions regarding the things he remembered from the man who did this to him like the look of his hands and a tattoo covering his arm. They explain to us that they already have compelling evidence because of the DNA test but it is always better do have even more evidence that can be presented in front of a judge.

”Mr. Kaulitz, do you want to do this alone with us or do you want your brother to stay?” Bills body tenses visibly, almost as if the innate run and hide reflex urges him to bolt out of the door. The muscles in his jaw clench and sweat gathers at his hairline despite the cool air coming from an air-condition unit in the corner of the room.

“I want Tom to stay, please” he murmurs and I put my hand on his shoulder to offer comfort.

The psychologist raises an eyebrow looking at us, almost if that small touch held lots of incriminating information. I hope that these are just my nerves playing tricks for me. After Bill confirms that he is ready the officer pushes down a button beside the window and a red light above the door in the other room is ignited. The door opens slowly and several man step inside, every one of them cuffed on both ankles and hands. All of them wear black masks, just as Bill described his attacker had. Bill draws in a sharp breath and I can feel his fear almost like it was my own. I step up behind him, noticing his shaking shoulders and the way he rubs his hands against each other in desperation.

These men only have stood there a couple of seconds but it feels like an eternity until the officer asks Bill if he recognizes any of them. They all wear plain white shirts, leaving their bare arms free for Bill to look at. All of them are white and have tattoos, which must be difficult for Bill. He approaches the glass to get closer.

“They can’t see me?” he asks in a broken voice, sounding like a scared child. 

We both know that they can’t see him, the police ensured him a couple of times on the phone already but I guess his fear takes over and he just feels the need to ask one more time. I don’t blame him, I can’t even imagine what it must be like knowing that the person who inflicted so much pain on him is in the other room, just separated by a wall. The thought alone makes my blood boil, not in fear but in rage and I take a deep breath to calm myself.

“Of course they can’t.” The officer reassures him, explaining that all these men see is a mirror.

With every pair of eyes in the tiny room on us I find it hard to give Bill the support he needs. I feel like I am doing constantly something wrong, that’s why I stand an arm’s length behind him.

“Tomi” he whispers and somehow it breaks the anxiety that held me in a tight grip and I can move forward wrapping my arms around his lithe frame. I press our bodies flush against each other, once again wishing we could just melt into one person. Observing eyes burn almost holes in my shirt but I ignore the stares and focus on comforting my little brother.

“It is the one on the left hand side, with the snake tattoo.” Bill turns around to bury his face on my chest as if he hasn’t the strength to look at the men another second. He shivers in my arms, shaken by a hundreds of unwelcome and painful memories.

“Please make them go away, please!” he whimpers and the sheer terror present in his trembling voice breaks my heart.

“Are you absolutely sure?” the psychologist asks and I glare daggers at the man. 

How dare he doubting Bills statement? The anger and rage I felt earlier bubbles up again because of the unfairness of the situation. It is unfair that someone as kindhearted as Bill had to go through all of the pain because of this man; someone who couldn’t look at his beauty without feeling the need to own and to destroy it. My heart beats painfully fast and I can hear the blood rush in my ears as the thought emerges that the monster that is responsible for all of this is on the other side of that glass happy and healthy. Fortunately glass can be broken. 

The officer must have felt the mood change in the room and interrupts the silent interplay between me and the psychologist with the explanation that it is routine to ask, because they can’t afford making mistakes.

“Bill can you describe why you are convinced that the man on the left is the one who abducted you?” the officer asks in a soft voice, absent mindedly turning a pencil up and down in his chubby fingers.

“It’s his hands…they are big and hairy, I remember them…hurting me. The tattoo, I stared at it while he tried to…rape me.” The last words drown in the involuntary sob that escapes Bill.

He presses his hands on his mouth as if he could physically stop the sobs from coming.  
At that exact moment all the rage and hatred that has been there since we entered this room erupts like a volcano, destroying every logical thought in its path. I look at the man’s hands imagining what they did to my little brother and I lose all control over my body and my reactions. In rage and pure agony I punch the glass of the window screaming death threads at the bastard hoping the bloody glass will shatter so that I can reach through to strangle that asshole. The glass stays unforgiving in place and by the unfazed looks on the men’s faces I guess that not even my screaming can be heard in the other room.

I give up with a frustrated groan and turn around to run out of the room, dodging hands grabbing at me to stop me. When we entered the waiting room I noticed another door down the hallway that must lead to the room where the men are standing right now to be identified by Bill. All I can think of is that I need to kill the monster that hurt my Bill. In the matter of seconds I reach the door and push down the handle, it violently flings open and crashes with a bang against the wall. Out of the corner of my eyes I register several men in uniform but ignore them in favor for reaching the other unguarded door.

But before I can reach it I hear the thumping of boots and something hard crashes into my body, I stumble and fall with my face down on the ground. Someone heavy is on top of me swearing and my arms are painfully bent on my back. I trash and scream that I want to kill the bastard who did this. My body aches but my heart aches even more. I hear several men talking but I am so angry I do not understand a word they say and I do not care.

“Tom, please!” I hear Bills pleading voice before his pale face comes into vision. His eyes are almost unnatural big and streaks of tears are visible on his cheeks. As I look at his face I am slowly able to breathe normally and the blinding hot rage leaves my body leaving me empty and aching. I turn my face away from him and look at the green linoleum underneath me, partly ashamed because of my behavior and partly because I didn’t make it to the door to revenge my little brother.

“Seems like this little rebel has calmed down,” the man holding me down says after a couple of minutes pass with nothing heard but my erratic breathing. The weight is leaving my back and I am dragged in a standing position, my hands still bend on my back tightly held by some officer I cannot see.

Shame colors my cheeks in bright red and I do not dare to lift my gaze to meet everyone’s disapproval. A hand pets me lightly on the shoulder and I look at the officer still smiling friendly like nothing has happened.

“Do not beat you up over this, mate. It happens more often than you would think: which is why we have extra officers stationed outside these rooms just to be safe.” He chuckles lightly and throws thanks at the officer still holding me.

“That bastard doesn’t deserve to be safe!” I spat, anger rolling over me again like a tidal wave.

“No probably not. But he deserves a fair trial, that’s how our legal system works. We cannot let the victims take the punishment into their own hands. Or the victims’ families for that matter.” The officer gives me a stern look and I can tell that he believes in his words and somehow his faith in the legal system calms me down.

“Promise not to do anything stupid?” he asks, looking into my eyes in search for confirmation. I nod hesitantly knowing that there is no way I’d be able to reach the asshole and kill him or at least hurt him with several police officers in near proximity.

“Let him go!” he orders the officer behind me and suddenly my arms are free again, blood pumping through them almost painfully.

I look up at my brother who stands a few steps away from me expecting a look of disappointment and disgust because I got violent again. But that isn’t the case and it takes me a couple of seconds to decipher the dark look in his eyes. It is not disgust but lust, exactly the way he looks at me before dragging down my pants when we are alone at night. A second adrenaline rush takes over my body and muddles my thoughts. The thought emerges that we must be the strangest twins existing on this earth.

“Are we free to go?” Bill asks the officers flashing them one of his fake smiles while his eyes never leave mine. They hesitate at first but nod then in conformation.

“Try not to get in trouble on the way out” the psychologist sneers and smiles a cold and condescending smile. I ignore that douchebag and just take Bills hand.

“We will be in touch” the friendly officer says and walks us down the corridor, back through all the locked doors into the main room of the police station. The air is still humming with voices but now I don’t look up, my gaze focused on the entrance. I can’t wait to leave this building and realize that I am almost dragging Bill along.

I slow down as we pass a corner on the far end of the building and enter the parking lot. It is surprisingly deserted of people despite the fact that there are so many cars parked here. But they probably belong to the people working here. All of a sudden Bill takes the lead and pushes me backwards behind three big oak trees. We are shielded from every one’s eyes and he doesn’t waste time before he presses his body against mine, his face so close that I can feel his breath dance on my lips. I lick my lips, an innate urge whenever I think about kissing Bill and he takes that as an invitation.

In the matter of seconds his tongue is everywhere, enveloping me in his taste and smell. I don’t understand his behavior the only thing I know is that the same longing makes my body hum and my blood almost bubble in excitement. The hard evidence that I deciphered his look right is pressed against my thigh and I momentarily cover his swelling crotch with my hands. His reaction is immediate and loud which makes me realize that we can’t stay here. But I can’t resist rubbing him a few times through his jeans, relishing the way he moans into my mouth.

“Let’s go!” we almost run to our car, my hands fumbling numbly after the car keys in my pocket. I jam them into the lock but look at Bill for a brief moment before starting the car.  
A serious expression is edged onto his features as he leans forward, hot bursts of air hitting the sensitive skin under my ear before he speaks.

“Please take me home and make love to me Tomi!” he whispers urgently, words that send all the blood I had in my body south.

With the last remaining thoughts I ask him why. Why now and why he isn’t angry at me for losing it at the police station?

“Because when I identified that man I could feel all the things he had done to me all over again. It felt like he touched me again and I was so horrified. And then you got so angry and wanted to kill him and it was right then and there that I felt safe again despite him being on the other side. YOU make me feel safe and loved. I looked at you struggling against the officers who held you down and I just imagined that with the same power you would eliminate all of what’s left of his memory on my body.”

I listened intently, with one eye focused on the thankfully empty streets.

“Or maybe you are just lucky and I have the hots for bad boys” Bill giggles and puts a hand on my thigh, making me loose even more focus on my driving. His hand creeps higher and higher, I have to clench my teeth in an effort not to steer us into a ditch. Figurative and literally speaking.


	14. Chapter 14

Thankfully Bill had a little mercy and removed his hand after a couple of seconds so that I could focus again on my driving and the traffic. I manage to navigate us through the streets properly despite the throbbing problem between my legs. It turns out that we have been longer at the police station than I originally thought. The green illuminated digits of the car clock show that it’s already past lunchtime, which explains the heavier traffic and busy activity as soon as we come close to our neighborhood. Now the earlier empty gardens and streets have filled with toddlers and their mothers or babysitters. The children are all covered in warm clothes because of the chilly day, but that doesn’t keep them from having fun with on the playground while the adults watch contently, some of them sipping on a coffee. The peaceful and harmonic scene takes my thoughts for one moment of the proposal my brother made a couple of minutes ago and I am able to think a little bit clearer.  
I glance over at him, admiring the beauty of his profile as he looks out of the window. I wonder if he is really ready for what he asked for and if that course of action is a good idea. I sigh inwardly because right now I wish I could ask someone professional if trying to erase the monsters memory by making love really is good for Bill. I am afraid of hurting him, but I know I can’t deny him what he asked for. Not just because he would feel rejected but also because I don’t think I have the strength to tell him no when it is the thing I want the most.  
I pull up into our driveway, passing the securitybooth and wave at the guy sitting there. Now that the monster is behind bars the security at our house is much lighter and I am thankful that things get back to normal at least partially.  
“Home sweet home,” I exclaim as I kill the engine which earns me a smile from my brother.   
Making him smile is still my favorite thing to do, it always has been and it always will be. We climb out of the car and I go ahead opening our front door. I take a step inside and look around before I call for the dogs. I guess they must be out on a walk otherwise they would have been already at the door, jumping at us like we have been gone for weeks not hours. I open the door wider and step aside so that Bill can enter the house as well. Somehow we end up almost pressed against each other in the tiny hallway as we try to remover our jackets and shoes. I casually wrap an arm around his narrow waist and he looks briefly up at me before lowering his glance. A pink blush is spreading on his neck and cheeks which makes him look absolutely adorable and my stomach flutters.  
“What are you thinking about?” I touch his plush lips with my thumb, my voice involuntarily hoarse.   
He just has this effect on me and as his blush deepens I contemplate if there ever will come a time when I won’t think of kissing him as soon as I look at his lips. His lips are soft but still slightly chapped under my finger and an electric feeling rips through me the moment he licks at my thumb. His eyes tell me everything I need to know and I take two steps back breathing deeply in an effort to get my composure back.  
“Can you do me a favor please? Just chill a little on the sofa, I need a couple of minutes.” I catch the confused expression on Bills face before I turn around swiftly to run upstairs, taking two stairs at a time.   
I enter my room which has become our bedroom during the last days and weeks. The changes to my room are subtle but I can spot Bill everywhere in here- in the jewelry carelessly left on my desk or the clothes scattered on nearly every available surface. I smile at the sight even though I prefer having my things in order. But it is heartwarming seeing that Bill has taken over my room as well as he has taken over my heart.  
I guess that Bill is probably impatiently waiting downstairs asking himself what the hell has gotten into me but I still take my sweet time preparing the room. I swoop up all the clothes scattered around the room and throw them carelessly into the closet. Some empty bottles need to be thrown away as well until the room looks presentable. I pull out the bottom drawer of my nightstand and smile down at its contents. I knew the day would come sooner or later when Bill would be ready to take our relationship to the next step. I wanted to be prepared for that and bought some supplies.  
Both Bill and I have had many bed partners but this still feels as special and nervous as the first time I ever had sex. I take out the candles I bought and scatter them throughout the room. As I light them they spread a scent of vanilla. I empty the surface of the nightstand to put the strawberry lube and condoms in place. Shortly I think about that I’d like to feel Bill without the need to use condoms but we haven’t talked about that at all and I assume he wants us to be safe; which is far better than to be sorry.  
I let my eyes glide through the room and feel content with the small changes. I straighten the sheets one last time before letting the blinds down. Just illuminated by the candles the room looks far more romantic than I anticipated and I can’t help myself but smile goofily. Nobody has ever brought out the urge in me to do something romantic before Bill.  
All of a sudden I remember that the dogs with the security aren’t back yet which means we have to wait until they get back to be truly undisturbed. I slowly walk down the stairs again, spotting Bill on the sofa curled up in his favorite spot, an anxious expression edged on his features. I approach him and smile reassuringly hoping that it will smooth over my odd behavior. I sit down beside him and entwine our hands without looking at him. I rub soothing circles with my fingers on his palm. This situation would have been nerve-racking even without the horrible things he experienced so I completely understand why he looks like that. Bill scoots closer and rests his head on my shoulder so that I have a perfect view of his tousled blond hair. I never told him but it is my favorite style of his, it makes him look cute and naughty at the same time.  
“I hope the guys hurry up with the dogs” he mumbles into my shirt and I nod in confirmation.   
For now we can’t do much more than sit here and wait for the dogs to return. Our security entourage has of course the keys to our house so that they can go inside and fetch the dogs. They would never dream of entering when we are at home but chances are the person walking the dogs thinks that we are still down at the police station. I really want to avoid being caught in a compromising situation with my own brother.  
All of a sudden Bill abandons his position, a sparkle in his eyes as he announces that he wants to use the time to get a shower. I try to tell him that he doesn’t have to but he cuts me off with the stuttering explanation that he feels dirty. I watch his back as he climbs up the stairs, already missing his comfortable weight on my body. To keep my thoughts from chasing each other I decide to shower as well.  
Standing in the shower in our second bathroom I hear the muffled barks of our dogs and someone talking. I don’t bother to rush out of the shower because our staff knows that they can just drop off the dogs, they are well-behaved. I relish the water trickling down on my shoulders and back, enveloping me in warmth. Until now I haven’t realized that I was tense but the hot water relaxes my back and I close my eyes for a moment. I use the shower gel Bill loves so much and apply it thoroughly over my body, making sure to be fresh and clean. All too soon I shut the shower off because I don’t want to keep Bill waiting. I am nervous and I can only imagine the emotions going through Bill right now. If I should guess I’d say not all of them are entirely pleasant.  
The warm cotton towel feels good on my skin as I absent mindedly dry my body and my hair off. My mind is already in the bedroom; thinking about how I can make this as easy on Bill as possible. I look at the pile of clothes on the floor and decide against putting them back on. I open the door and smile as Bill leaves the other bathroom at exactly the same time. Sometimes it is so obvious that we are twins. I step into the hallway and he smiles coyly at me, his eyes lowered. I roam his body with my eyes, his lithe frame and naked upper body covered in tattoos. He has a similar towel around his waist, I guess he figured like I did that it didn’t make sense to put our clothes back on. It feels like my senses work overtime as I approach him, my skin sensitive to the fabric of the towel and the cool air on my belly. My hair is damp on my shoulders and the carpet soft underneath my feet. I smell the faint vanilla scent from the candles I lit in my room as well as the clean scent of soap.  
“Come on, baby” I whisper even though nobody is here but us. I extend my hand and he takes it, his eyes bright and sparkling.  
The few steps up to our bedroom are all it takes to speed my heartrate considerably. I feel anxious not knowing how he will react to the room, if he is going to like it or find it cheesy. Cautiously I push the handle down and open the door, my other hand still holding Bills in a tight grip. My palms become damp and make me feel like a teenager on his first date.  
“Tom!” he exclaims as soon as he has stepped inside our bedroom, the exact same expression on his face like when he was a child and entered our favorite amusement park knowing that he could go on all the rides and eat all the candy he wants. He wraps his arms around me, sending off a whole army of butterflies in my stomach. His warm and inviting mouth lets me forget my nerves for a moment.  
Bill takes a deep breath and I wonder briefly how nervous he really is. I take some steps into the room until I feel a cool hand on my back, soft fingertips stroking tenderly along my spine. The loving gesture and the smooth touch of velvety lips on my shoulders make me shiver.  
“Thank you,” Bill murmurs and I can feel him smile against my skin. My heart beats faster and the familiar butterflies start their dance in my stomach. Making him happy is the most important thing to me.  
I turn around to finally face the otherworldly beauty who is not just my soulmate and twin, but also my best friend and lover. He is mine, completely and forever. The candles light up his eyes and in them I see the promise of a lifetime of love and passion. In this exact moment it feels like time is stretching; the past and the future coexisting. Deep down I know that we have always loved each other, from lifetime to lifetime and that we will continue on together from now on.  
We just have to face one more obstacle until both of us, but mostly Bill can start the real healing process; as long as he feels that monster on his skin he is never going to be free and that’s why I don’t hesitate and pull him closer. His skin is warm under my hands and his body melts into mine like he was born to fit in my arms. I have seen his tattoos many times but I once again let my fingertips glide over them, they are part of him and I love every single one of them even if I don’t understand the reason behind all of them. His breathe hitches when I touch his belly, the muscles contract under my fingers. I pause with my hands on his hips, caressing the prominent hipbone with my thumb.  
I give him time to adjust by once more capture his lips with mine for a passionate kiss. By the time I release him again we are both breathing heavyly, our lips red and swollen. I cautiously untie the towel and lock eyes with him until the towel hits the floor, leaving him exposed to my hungry eyes and touches. His eyes are lowered and the candles illuminate his alluring face, tinted by the slightest hint of red on his cheeks. My gaze is magically pulled downwards, like a compass is pulled by its north.  
My eyes are lingering on his erection, his body telling me that he is ready for this even if his mind still struggles to hang on. I close my hand around him, feeling the velvet and moist skin greet my palm. I apply minimal pressure, just hold him and caress him softly at the same time. He sighs and I have to smile at the low whimper that emerges from his throat when I start moving my hand.  
“Come on babe, let’s go to bed,” I whisper and he nods in agreement.  
I let him climb onto the silky sheets first and look down at him for one moment. The sight is so completely right and sinful that my penis jerks expectantly. I get rid of the towel still hugging my waist and join him on the bed. I spoon him from behind, his slender legs entwined with mine. I feel the sharp angles of his body against mine, his chest rise and fall in deep breaths. His eyes are closed, long slightly curled lashes resting against his creamy white cheeks. His skin looks delicious and I can’t restrain myself, the need to kiss and nibble at every inch of him is too overwhelming. My tongue finds a hard nipple and for a moment I am lost in the erotic world of sensations. His nipples, hard nubs in my mouth, the hitched breathing and low whimpers emerging from Bill, silky sheets hugging my body and my erection pressed against his firm butt. I make sure all my touches are cautious and tender; I want to give him time to get used to every new feeling.  
His body feels relaxed in my arms and I dare to touch him more determined where he needs it the most. I would never have guessed that feeling a penis in my hand could be such a turn on for me. But now I can barely restrain myself as precum leeks of his penis onto my palms. I use the fluid to make faster and smoother movements with my hand, his flesh hard and hot. By the way he moans my name I can tell that I have to slow down if I don’t want to end this sooner than I hoped.  
I retract my hand and put small butterfly kisses on his shoulder blades and all the way down his spine. He is so lithe and thin I can feel his ribcage underneath my fingertips. I swallow at the sight of his perfectly shaped ass, the one body part that I have longed for to touch but couldn’t. I haven’t been touched and yet it feels like I am ready to explode any moment. A scent of strawberry mixes with the vanilla as I uncap the lube, squirting a generous amount on my palm. I know that now comes the tricky part and I just hope that he will be fine. The smile has faded from his face even though his erection still stands proudly. The moment I dripple the lube all over his crease his body tenses and a frown appears on his features.  
“Shhh I am not going to hurt you, you know that babe,” I whisper in his ear, my fingertips tenderly pressed against his entrance.   
Because he doesn’t object I decide to keep going, steadily applying more pressure in a sensual massage but never entering his body. I have a firm grip on his erection again, afraid that it will fade away by the on slaughter of horrible memories. His body relaxes the tiniest bit and I press on finger slowly deeper, entering the tight hotness of his body. My finger is slick with lube and it enters easily until muscles clench around my finger tightly.   
I watch Bills face intently and stop any movements. His jaw is clenched and his body rigid, his breathing is erratic. I open my mouth to say something but am stopped by the first tear sliding down his cheeks. My heart breaks for him and the guilt burns in my stomach. I suspected that this was too early but let my lust get the better of me and proceeded anyways.  
“No, don’t!” he almost yells at me as I try to retract my finger from his body. Startled I look down at his widened and tear-filled eyes.  
“But…what?” I stammer but he interrupts me.  
“I want this, I want this, I want this,” he messes over and over again, almost as if to convince himself.  
“Bill…” I trail off and take his hand. His forehead is glistening with cold sweat and he shivers. I fetch the blanket with one arm and put it around us, forming a warm cocoon. I still have my finger inside of him as he begged and decide to give him some time to calm down. I wrap my body around him in a futile effort to shield him from all the evil in the world.  
Suddenly I have an idea and kiss his perfect ear before I whisper.  
“Do you remember when you were 13 and tried to learn how to ride the skateboard? I still can picture you laying in the dirt, your knees scraped and everyone laughing at your clumsiness. I tell you a secret: seeing you sitting on the ground with tears in your eyes and dirt on your cheeks made my heart beat a mile an hour. It was the first time I remember feeling giddy by just looking at you.”  
I chuckle and get rewarded with a small smile that tugs the corners of his mouth upwards. It seems like I have found a way to make things easier for him because the tension in his body fades. While my hands are occupied with small tender touches I recall the few memories I have when I clearly felt that our bond was much more than simple brotherly love. Of course back then these moments frightened me and I could not forget them fast enough. While I talk about this I realize that my feelings for him have been there all along, I was just too thickheaded and afraid to acknowledge them.  
Between each memory I devour Bills mouth in passionate kisses and it doesn’t take long until his body is ready to play again. Shielded away from the world, in a cocoon of blankets and loving memories he is finally able to fight the horrible things he experienced. It is a struggle for him, every touch reminds him of the torture he endured but I try at the same time to remind him of our unbreakable love. I fight every bad memory with a good one, inwardly thanking God that there are plenty of them. Minutes stretch to almost an hour until he is ready to relax so that he can feel any pleasure. It is a battle and I am fighting it alongside with him, with no other weapons than my love and affection for this man.  
Finally I am able to prepare him properly, two fingers slick with lube gliding in and out of him. His head is tilted back and he moans lowly. I am inexperienced when it comes to making love to a man but with some guidance I am able to find that special spot inside of him that makes him scream my name in pleasure. My heart beats a hundred miles an hour, the way his body feels around my fingers is making me crazy. I need to feel him, be inside of him so badly. He nods his confirmation as I place myself at the right angle, my penis nudging his entrance softly.  
The next minutes drown in a haze of emotions and sensations. Fireworks explode inside of me and nothing has ever felt so right like melting into one with my soulmate, the way we were supposed to be. I claim his heart, his body and his mind; marking him as mine. With every thrust in the tight hotness of his body I chase the shadow of that monster away, leaving no room for anything but me.  
For Bill the pleasure is mixed with sadness and fear but he fights this battle like there is no tomorrow. And I am right here by his side, in fear and sorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think


End file.
